A Beastly Second Chance
by WanderingTeen
Summary: A once-handsome man must learn a lesson of love and compassion. In this new world centered on electronics and beauty, will he be able to break the curse that holds him, or will he remain a beast forever? T for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**One**

_People who claim they don't let the little things bother them have never slept in a room with a single mosquito – _Anonymous

Chance knew that something was wrong when he woke to find a woman in his bedroom, standing over him as if she knew him.

He didn't know her, and she was hideous.

Her breasts were too small, almost non-existent, and her nose was gigantic. She looked like someone who spent most of their time on the street with needles in their arms, and the scars along the veins running up either arm did not do much to change the perception. She looked to be about thirty or so, with scraggly blond hair in a messy ponytail. She was wearing plain jeans and a white t-shirt, which was a size too large. She wore those ridiculous crocs on her feet, which were huge. Her muddy brown eyes gazed down at him in utter adoration.

Was someone playing a joke on him? He did not like desperate drugged-up prostitutes to begin with, but putting one in his bedroom without his permission was just presumptuous. Besides, she was an absolute slob, and far too thin. He preferred a body with a little more curve to it.

"Um... hi?" he said.

"Hello, Chance..." the woman replied. Her voice was squeaky and weak, and she sounded wasted. "I... I need your help."

He had been drinking earlier. Maybe he was having a delusional hangover dream. It would not be the first time. Maybe he had purchased a good time on the way home from the bar...? If so, he remembered nothing. Which would be the first time. Chance made a habit of remembering sex, good or otherwise.

"Did we fuck?" Chance asked. He moved from underneath the quilt and stood. He was naked, and the woman was not surprised to see him without anything on. Which made the sex idea seem a little more probable.

"... No..." the woman replied.

Okay. He had not hired the fugly woman to sleep with him. Which meant that she had broken into his house or something. But how did she know his name...?

Well, it was obvious. She had seen his work, learned where he lived, and decided to find him. After all, people like him had lots of money to steal.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, although he already decided that the little whore was there for drug money. That was what all those lazy street people wanted: money to fuel their disgusting drug habits.

"I came to see you," She murmured, her weak voice repulsive to his ears.

Chance got up with a sigh. The woman moved to touch him and he backed away quickly. He did not want the disgusting thing anywhere near him.

"I need help." The woman murmured, her words almost becoming a sob.

Chance went to his vanity, and for the barest moment, he allowed himself to take in his gorgeous reflection. Even with a little bed head his chocolate brown hair was beautiful, and it shifted gently with his every move. His icy blue eyes looked back at him, their glittering anger apparent even in the darkness. His body, perfectly toned, moved supply as he opened a drawer to retrieve his wallet.

He was a male model, and he knew that he was gorgeous. He made a living just by being pretty.

He looked for a moment over the twenty and fifty dollar bills, wondering what would make the bitch leave. Then, with a grin, he took a few coins from one of the pockets and, turning towards the woman, he threw them at her.

A quarter bounced off her chin and she put her hand to her skin, a hurt look spreading over her ugly face. She lowered her hear and her shoulders hunched miserably.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you fugly druggie bitch." Chance growled. He moved towards her and grabbed her, throwing her away from his bed. "I don't remember letting you in and I sure as hell don't want you here, so piss off and maybe I won't call the cops."

She woman looked up at him, and the look in his eyes made her flinch. He was at least a foot taller than her, and far stronger.

"I… but I need help." She whimpered. "You can help me. Just-"

"I'm not helping you. Get out of my house."

"Please, just give me a minute-"

"Get... the fuck... out... of my house." He muttered. His voice, usually so compelling to women, was full of hatred. He pushed her towards the door and she crumpled to the ground, hurting her wrist. She whimpered and cradled it to her thin chest, looking up at him. He saw her junkie teeth now and nearly gagged.

"I just-"

"Get out, or I will knock you out and throw you out." Chance glanced towards the window, where white snow was falling from a darkened sky. "Unconscious people don't do well in bellow-zero weather. If you want to live to see the next needle go in your arm, I suggest you get the fuck out."

The woman began to sob, and as she did so her voice became stronger. Finally, when she spoke, it wasn't squeaky or confused. It was powerful.

"You're a beast."

The moment the words passed through her lips, a searing pain passed through Chance's backbone. He cried out and fell backwards, crumpling to the ground. He glanced up at the woman, expecting her to go for his wallet. Instead, she watched him with dry eyes.

Was it just him, or were her breasts suddenly bigger?

She stood and moved towards him, glancing down her huge nose and into his eyes. Hers were strong now, no longer a muddy brown but a strong, beautiful colour.

"Beast," she whispered again, and he screamed as his backbone crunched. He struggled to his knees and she repeated, "Beast," and he screamed as his ribs began to lengthen, pushing his flesh to its limit.

As he grew more misshapen and deformed, the woman grew more beautiful. Her hair began to grow full and long, discarding the ponytail for an elaborate updo. Her plain clothes became something out of a fairytale, the clothing of a magnificent queen. Her nose receded until it fit her face. Her teeth became straight and her body became curvy. Her skin was perfectly unmarked. Soon, she was too perfect to look at.

Chance was horrified to see that the arms that had once held beautiful women became covered in a fine pelt of hair. His legs began to bow out and soon they met the same fate as his arms. His hands and feet half-turned to paws and then stopped. His jaw lengthened and he cut his tongue as his teeth became sharp. Soon, as he blinked, he discovered that he had two sets of eyelids: outer ones covered with fur, and inner eyelids that covered his eyes in an opaque film.

Gingerly, as his bones stopped breaking, he touched his nose. It was wet and raised out from fur.

He looked up at the woman before him and nearly looked down again. She almost shimmered from her beauty, and looking at her hurt his eyes. She glanced down at him, her bright eyes holding only pity.

"You needed only to help me," she murmured. She kneeled so that she was on his level. "You only had to spend an hour at the most and drive me to the hospital. That was all you needed to do."

"I'm... I'm sorry..." Chance murmured, but he found that his words were hardly human. He had merely growled. "I'll... I'll take you now..."

The woman seemed to understand, and she touched his paw with her perfect, soft hand. "You acted as though you were an animal. You were handsome, but inside, you are ugly. Now your outside matches."

Chance explored his body with his paws, moving away from her as he did so. Rough pads that served as his palms travelled over his changed body. He took in fur, claws, and a curved spine. He could smell – actually smell - her pity, mixed with his own fear. Two things stood out and frightened him the most.

First, he had a tail, which felt to him like the parody of a golden retriever's. The fur was long and silky he wagged it experimentally, wondering how he was suddenly able to do so.

Secondly...

He had no penis.

He knew that animals had penises, but they were usually sheathed until mating was a priority. But this... this was just unfair. If he could not see or feel it, how did he even know he had one? How could he ever "unsheathe" it?

As if I'll get any action looking like this...

Desperately, he turned back to the woman, and her pitying eyes fell on his.

"Please," he gasped, reaching for her. His speech became even more garbled, if that was possible. "Please, this isn't fair, turn me back and I'll be nice, I swear, I'll give you money, I'll take you to the hospital, I'll fuck you, just make me handsome again!"

She shook her head. "That's not up to me."

"What do you mean? You did this! You made yourself beautiful; you can do that to me!"

She shook her head again. "It's up to you. You must change the inside before you change the outside."

"What?"

"You need to learn compassion and love. If you can learn to feel love for someone, and if someone else love you back despite your appearance, then... you will change back."

"What are you talking about? Change me back, you fuck!" Chance made use of his newly grown claws and lashed out at her, tearing gashes in her cheek. The woman's eyes were still filled with pity as she touched her flesh, making the gashes disappear.

"You will have everything you need, whether you change back or not. Magic will provide everything. All you need do is ask." She sighed. "You will not get many chances. You must learn your lessons, and apply them to your life. Elsewise, you will die a monster."

"Fuck you!"

The woman closed her eyes, and in a moment, she winked out of existence.

* * *

It took Chance over an hour to work up the courage to go to the mirror. In the meantime, he ran his hands over his new body to prepare himself.

No penis.

Okay, he could deal with that.

Fur.

Claws.

A tail.

Pointed ears.

He could deal with that, too.

Pointy teeth.

Wet nose.

Two sets of eyelids.

Curved spine.

He could deal with everything.

He could find someone. He'd had countless girlfriends over the years. They had all cried when he broke up with them. They had all loved him. He had liked some of them. One of them could change him back.

... I have no penis...

He stood, stumbled, and fell to the ground. He couldn't stand with this new body. A new thought crossed through his mind: how was he supposed to make a living? What sort of model looked like this?

Terrified, Chance crawled towards his vanity. He paused for a moment, preparing himself for the inevitable, and put his arms on the table, knocking over cologne and a bottle of imported vodka. It fell to the ground and shattered, but he paid it no mind.

He pulled himself up. This new body had immense strength, and soon Chance was staring into the eyes of a disgusting creature. Blue eyes sparkled in fear, the only remnant of his beauty.

His entire body was covered coarse fur. It was the same colour as his hair had been, but it was much thickened. Most of it was already tangled from his constantly running his hands over it.

His face was like a cross between a wolf and a lion. His nose was a black wet knob surrounded by fur, and his ears were large and erect. His chest was huge, leading to muscular arms which tapered down to his paw-hands. The torso tapered slightly into a waist, and two muscular legs emerged, bending strangely at the knee and ending in strange paw-feet.

The tail hung limply, visible between his legs.

Chance began to sob. He glanced out the window, and saw that he was not in his familiar neighbourhood. In fact, there were no houses to be seen. He was completely, utterly alone.

Finally, the strength in his arms gave way and Chance fell to the ground, his sobs becoming screams of misery. After seeing himself, he knew that no one could ever love him. He had come from a world of beauty and wealth, and now he was just an animal.

He would never be human again.

* * *

**AN:** Okay, so, I know I've been absent for a while and I decided to finally write my modern Beauty and the Beast. So... here it is!


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

_What I have to say is_ _far more important than how long my eyelashes are_ – Alanis Morsette

Faith sat with her Sociology textbook open on her lap. Imogen Heap was crooning from her CD player and she unconsciously tapped her finger to the music.

Speeding Cars came on and she put the text away. The test was more than a week away and she had a date that night, anyways. She should be getting ready, not sitting around and needing it out...

_... Maybe I should just finish that chapter on gender..._

She moved to grasp the book again but restrained herself in time.

* * *

Chance had learned soon after his transformation that the "magic" that the ugly/beautiful woman had been going on about didn't like him. It had made all of his things disappear aside from the contents of his room. And when he tried to get replacements, it took forever.

He would ask for, say, a computer and get something out of the eighties. To get exactly what he wanted, he had to extremely specific. It took a week to finally get a laptop with wireless capability, not to mention all the gizmos and gadgets in order to connect to the internet. And every few days something would disappear and he would have to fight to get it back again.

It took a week to learn how to type with his new fingers, and he sent emails to all the people that mattered saying that he had some personal issues and he would return to his life (if he ever could). It took a month to learn how to walk properly. It was a year before he stopped being surprised when he woke and saw his hideous body staring back at him through the mirror.

His house had displaced itself. He had no idea how. If took a few weeks before he worked up the courage to look outside and find out his new address. Which also changed every month or so. Even the house seemed against him: it rearranged rooms during the night so he would wake up in the bathroom or kitchen occasionally and wonder how the hell he got there.

It took a while before he worked up the nerve to ask for some clothing that fit him. He looked like the wolf man in the jeans and button up shirts he finally managed to get (which were not very fashionable), but it was better than walking around naked all the time and being reminded that he was an animal.

After about a year and a half, Chance made a plan. People fell in love over the internet all the time. All he had to do was find a girl out there in internet land and make her fall in love with him. She would never see him, and he could just use one of the pictures from his last modelling gig to show how gorgeous he had been. She would love him for sure, and when they finally met he'd be a human with a penis again and he'd finally get a good screw.

* * *

Faith stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her short hair. She stepped on the mat and moved towards the tiny mirror and sink. After rubbing at her hair a little with the towel, she dried off her body and put out the clean underwear and bra that she had put out.

Faith pushed the damp black hair from her forehead, looking into the half-fogged mirror and smiling. Her reflection smiled back, but her dark eyes gleamed without enthusiasm. Her friend had set her up for this date, and she wasn't sure that things would go quite the way she planned. This friend thought Orlando Bloom was the ideal man.

She took a comb from her scattered collection of crap and brushed through her hair. It was cut in an asymmetrical bob with the long side going almost to her shoulder on the left side and the right side cut just to the bottom of her ear. The bangs followed the same slope as she brushed them out, parting her wet hair on the side.

Faith rubbed a straightening cream into her hair and began to blow dry it, trying to decide what to wear. She had two types of clothes: plain tomboy-esque T-shirts and jeans, which she usually wore to class, and girly shirts that showed how attractive that she could be. The later rarely escaped her closet.

Once her hair was dry, Faith ran a small amount of smoothing cream on top to keep her hair smooth. She toyed with the idea of allowing one of her pretty shirts out for the night, zipping open her modest make-up case. She took out a purple eyeliner and black mascara, deftly lining her upper lids and flicking the tips upwards. She put on a few swipes of mascara, checking for smudges before finishing with chap stick.

Faith went to her closet and studied the shirts. On the one hand, she could take out one of her plain T's. The one with David Bowie on the front still looked somewhat decent, and with her nice black sweater...

Her eyes travelled to a babydoll-style tank top. It was striped black and white, and it had a sweetheart neckline that showed her breasts off to their full advantage.

And with a pair of double D's like hers, there was a lot to show off.

Faith had a love-hate relationship with her breasts. Personally, she believed that the ideal woman had curves. She believed that women were supposed to have breasts and hips, and she never considered herself "fat" for having either. Besides, she had come from a family of large cup sizes (the only woman ever to be less than a D had been anorexic) and she had come to appreciate the power of big boobs, for something as simple as getting ahead in line to getting out of a parking ticket. But with great breasts came great responsibility. They attracted bad attention as well as good, and Faith had been fondled more than once during parties. She had lost more than a few boyfriends because of their obsession with her chest, and she was tired of being judged just because she was a girl with huge boobs.

On the other hand, if she started to like this guy... he would see them eventually...

Faith sighed and selected the prettier top. She slipped it on, and as she straightened it she glanced into the mirror again.

She was... well, pretty was what her friends called her. She personally thought she was no better looking than any of her friends, and according to the magazines her breasts were too big, her hips too wide, her face too plain. According to the magazines, she would never be the ideal woman.

Magazines also claimed that people like Paris Hilton deserved to be famous, so they weren't right all the time.

Faith shrugged and pulled on a pair of skinny jeans. After a moment she found her patent pleather Mary Jane shoes and the cute black cardigan that went down to her hips. The sleeves almost covered her hands, allowing her fingers to poke out.

Faith grabbed her purple messenger bag and checked to see that her keys were inside. When she saw that they were, she left the apartment and locked the door. She had been told to meet her date at a coffee shop just down the street, and she would do just that, boobs or no boobs.

* * *

When Faith got to the coffee shop, she ordered a green tea latte and sat down at a table for two. Her friend had given the date her photo, so he would have to approach her.

Faith took a sip of the latte and sighed. She was content to watch the people around her interacting, although the music playing in the shop was a bit of a drag. She took her iPod from her purse and began listening to something a little more cheerful.

As the first song finished and the second began, Faith felt someone tap her shoulder. She pulled the headphones from her head and turned to find a young man looking down at her.

"Hi," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Faith. Are you Emma's friend?"

"Um... hi." He replied, taking her hand. He glanced down at her chest but caught himself before the glance became a stare. "Yes. I am. I'm Robert."

"Want to sit down?" Faith asked, her heart sinking already.

"Sure." He sat hurriedly, knocking the table. Faith's latte almost tipped but she grasped it in time. "Sorry."

"No worries."

Faith looked him over as his eyes trailed towards her eyes. He had looked tall while standing, and he was a little heavy. She didn't mind that. He had some acne on his chin. She didn't mind that, either. Faith had always been one to see past a few outer "ugglies" and find better things inside, but her friends usually sent her along with hot guys who just wanted to grope her. She would politely decline. From there, they usually decided that they were the kings of Shit Mountain and demanded that she have sex with them, or some such bullshit. The only one who hadn't wanted her for her body so far had been gay, and Faith was still friends with him.

Faith took in a few of Robert's good qualities: he had friendly green eyes and curly red hair. He had some adorable freckles on his cheeks, and he was dressed nice. And he was doing wonderfully with eye contact. He'd only glanced at her boobs twice the whole time.

"So, what did you want to... um... do?" he asked, blushing a little.

Faith smiled. There was another positive: he actually gave a damn about what she wanted. "Well, I'm pretty easygoing. What would you do, if it were up to you?"

"Um... I would... uh... I think I would go to, like, a movie and then..."

"Robert?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to be so nervous. I'm not going to poke you with a stick if you suggest something I don't want to do."

Robert grinned a little. He had nice teeth. "Um... thanks for the tip. I guess I just... uh... don't usually spend time with girls."

"Well, I like you so far." Faith assured him. "And a movie sounds nice. I was kind of hoping to see that new movie with Vince Vaughn..."

"I want to see that, too." Robert replied. He sounded relieved. "And would you want to... um... go for dinner?"

"Sure."

"What would you eat?"

"I'll eat anything." Faith shrugged. "How about you?"

"I'll eat anything." Robert agreed. Faith was pleased to see that he was no longer pausing or second-guessing himself. "How about Indian? There is this awesome restaurant... its called the Clay Oven..."

"Oh my god, that is my favourite place in the world." Faith said.

"Really?"

"Yes." Faith was actually getting excited. Maybe Robert would turn out to be as nice later as he was now. "What time do you think you want to go to the movie?"

"I don't know. We could go for supper and then walk around until the next show after that." Robert cleared his throat suddenly unsure again. "Um... did you want to take my car or yours?"

"I walked here."

"Oh. Okay."

Faith finished her latte. "Want to go now?"

"Sure."

Faith stood a moment before him and threw her cup into the trash. She got to the door ahead of Robert and opened it for him. He stood dumbly for a moment, staring at her.

"Aren't... I supposed to do that?"

Faith pushed him through the door. "Come on. Girls are allowed to open doors, too."

* * *

Chance was beginning to think that the ugly/beautiful woman was just a sick twisted bitch. He had woken up and his laptop was gone. So were all of his clothes and all of the food in the fridge and the house had rearranged itself so that, for some godforsaken reason, the kitchen shit was in his bedroom and his bed was placed precariously in the bathtub.

If he ever did get back to normal, he would hunt her down and tear her head off.

* * *

After about a month of dating Robert, Faith was wondering exactly what she had gotten herself into. He was changing, but she wasn't so sure that it was for the better.

He had lost about ten pounds and gotten an acne cream that worked. He was far more self-confident and he was starting to get more adventurous. Which was fine. Except now he wanted her to commit to a little more than a kiss now and then.

Which Faith was in no way prepared to for.

She told him she needed more time. He agreed, which reminded her that his consideration had been what attracted her to him in the first place. Besides, she was going to have to commit to something a little more intimate eventually, and Robert really seemed to like her.

Faith didn't believe in love at first sight. She believed that affection was earned, and Robert was doing his best to earn hers. He still did whatever she wanted on dates and he had sent her flowers when she finished her first term exams.

Maybe she was being to hard on him. True love was something from fairytales, and she couldn't keep a distance from him forever and expect his interest to continue. Sex was a big step, but maybe he deserved a little more than a peck on the cheek...

_This is ridiculously hard. _

* * *

When Chance finally got a replacement laptop, it was pink. By that time, he didn't give a shit. He had finally come up with a plan and he was prepared to put it into action.

He got an account on every chat room and dating site imaginable and watched for women that seemed like a good fit. Once filtering through all of the offers for webcam cyber sex (he didn't think he'd make a good impression at the moment), he began to find woman that seemed halfway decent.

He started a few conversations, holding up to ten at a time. He figured that he'd find someone who suited his tastes eventually.

* * *

"What do you usually do when you need advice?" Faith asked. She was talking on the phone with Emma whilst wrapping gifts. She was planning to go over to her parents and celebrating an early Christmas with them before they made off for Mexico.

"I talk to my friends. Which you're doing right now." Emma replied. "What's the issue?"

"Well, not to sound ungrateful, but... I'm having a few doubts about Robert."

"What? Are you serious? He's crazy about you. He thanks me for setting you two up every time he sees me. And he's gotten hot since meeting you. You're perfect for each other."

"I guess, but... I just feel like he wants different things than I do."

"Faith... you told me you were tired of dating hot guys who just wanted to do you and get on with their lives. So I found you a nice guy who is honest-to-god head over heals for you and worships the ground that you walk on, and... you don't like him?"

"Well I like him, I just... he wants to get deeper into the physical side of the relationship."

"... and?"

"Well I'm a virgin, Emma!"

"So? I was a virgin before dating Jeff. What are you worried about, STDs? Because Robert is a virgin, too, you know."

"I know. He told me."

"And its a trust issue for him, too, if that's what you're so worried about. Did he tell you about the first and only girlfriend he had before you?"

"No."

"Okay, well don't tell him I told you this, but she tricked him into thinking that she wanted to have sex with him and when she got him naked she took pictures and put them on Face Book. And he was heavier then than he was when you met him."

Faith dropped what she was doing. "God, that's awful! When did that happen?"

"Two years ago."

"Poor guy..."

"He loves you, you know."

"He likes me, you mean."

"No, he's actually in love. He told me so. He's going to tell you on Christmas Day. He's planning to-"

"Are you going to keep telling me things he doesn't want me to know yet?"

"... I thought you'd be interested."

"I'm not. I mean, I am, but I don't want to go behind his back to find shit out."

"Fine. Have it your way. Do you at least want to get physical with him now?"

"... You are just strange sometimes..." Faith sighed and went back to her gift-wrapping. "I just don't know, Emma. He's sweet, and nice, and considerate, and compassionate... did I tell you about our last date when he found that injured cat and we rushed it to the vet?"

"No."

"It was so sad. A car had hit it and it was a stray. Turned out it had feline aids and it was too far-gone. Robert paid to have it put to sleep and we held it until its heartbeat stopped."

"That's depressing."

"It was. I was crying."

"So he sounds like your perfect man. Don't you think?"

"... I think I should research it on the internet..."

"... Research what? Your perfect man?"

"No, when it's the right time to take the next step in a physical relationship. And when sex and whatnot is appropriate."

"Oh my god, if you loose your virginity to someone I set you up with I will cry with happiness."

"You're a creep."

"I know."

* * *

**AN:** Welcome to chapter two! Faith is one of my favorite female charectors ever invented in my head. Mostly because she shares my boob issues...


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

_Don't worry about failure. Worry about the chances you miss when you don't even try –_ Anonymous

Faith had heard that the Internet was like a free therapy service. So, after reading a few eHow and wikiHow articles, she stumbled upon a few chatrooms and decided, what the hell. She set up an account on one and typed out a little introduction, reading it over before posting it.

Even in the world of the internet, she hated typos.

_**Queen of the Nerds:**__ Hi out there. I'm looking for some intelligent conversation and a little bit of advice, so private message me if you're willing!_

She got three messages that went along these lines: "_Hi. I'm twenty, blond, and hot. Wanna cyber?"_

She got one message that sounded like this: _"LEMME SEE J00 ON WEBCAM BAYBEE!"_

And she got about a hundred messages that simply asked: _"ASL?"._

She was about ready to log out when she got the most intelligent message yet: "Hi."

She replied to that one.

* * *

So far, Chance was having no luck. Most of the girls he was meeting in the chatrooms were in their teens and far too hyperactive and abbreviated for his tastes. And boys kept hitting on him. Considering that he was using one of his model pictures, it was understandable, but he was not willing to lean that way. He wondered if he should maybe give up on this particular chatroom when an intelligent request for conversation came up. Chance couldn't be sure why he felt the need to reply. Maybe because she was not asking him to cyber or go on webcam. Maybe it was because it seemed like an innocent request.

Maybe it was because the request was spelled and punctuated properly.

Whatever the reason, Chance decided to start a conversation. The name didn't entice him much, and her display picture was of a picture of a muffin crying with the words "Emo Muffin" scribbled at the bottom. Chance nearly clicked the off button for the conversation, deciding that she probably wasn't worth his time, but she replied and he felt that she at least warrented a minute of conversation.

She typed: **"**_**Hi. Thank god someone on here isn't trying to get into my cyber- pants."**_

He smiled. She seemed nice enough. **"**_**I'm too surprised to see someone else typing properly to be concerned with that now."**_

"_**Well that hasn't stopped anyone else yet."**_

"_**Give it time." **_He sent the message off. He got a reply on another conversation but ignored it. _**"So... you wanted intelligent conversation and advice?"**_

"_**Yuppers."**_

"_**What kind?"**_

"_**Relationship advice. I'm having issues with guys."**_

Relationship advice. He certainly wasn't someone to ask for relationship advice. He didn't even have a penis, for christ sake. Never the less, he typed: _**"Well, I'm a guy. I can probably help."**_

"_**Well... this guy I'm dating wants to take things to the next level and I really feel no need to do so."**_

"_**Oh." **_He knew he should just exit the conversation. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. He needed someone to fall for him so he could be a man with working parts again. But it had been so long since he'd had a decent conversation...

"_**Apparently he loves me, but I don't feel that way about him."**_

Well that was a little more promising. _**"Really? How do you feel?"**_

"_**I like that he treats me like a human being rather than a pair of walking breasts, but... I don't know. I don't love him."**_

"_**Do you like him?" **_A rebound chick. This might just be his ticket out of this disgusting body.

"_**That's complicated."**_

"_**Well, how do you feel?"**_

"_**How would you feel if someone worshiped the ground you walked on?"**_

If she was being worshiped, she must be hot. _**"I'd like it."**_

"_**I don't."**_

"_**Why not?"**_

"_**I'm just a person. I don't want to be looked at like a god any more than I want to be looked at like a walking set of breasts."**_

"_**Well maybe you deserve to be worshiped."**_

"_**Ha, ha."**_

"_**Then maybe you deserve someone as good as you. He sounds like he's out of his league."**_

"_**Oh, I didn't mean to give that impression. It's not that I'm better than him, its that he's WAY more into me than I am to him."**_

"_**Well, is he as hot as I am?"**_

Faith glanced at the display picture. It was of an attractive guy with gorgeous hair and even better eyes. But she wasn't an idiot.

"_**Come on. Pictures lie. No one uses their real picture on the Internet. You could be an old man looking to score."**_

"_**That really hurts. Don't you have any faith in me?"**_

"_**Nope. I'm a realist."**_

"_**Darn. Not another one."**_

Faith smiled. He was funny, she had to give him that. _**"You certainly don't act like any of the hot young guys I've gone out with."**_

"_**Really? How am I supposed to act?"**_

"_**Like you're the King of Shit Mountain."**_

"_**Oh. Well I'm not the King of Shit Mountain."**_

"_**Well there you go."**_

"_**I'm actually the Prince of Assland. Sorry about the mix up."**_

Faith giggled. _**"No worries, your highness."**_

"_**Capital H on Highness."**_

"_**Whatevs." **_She glanced at the clock._** "Shoot. I've got to get ready for my date."**_

Chance was disappointed. He had just been getting warmed up. _**"With Worship McGee?"**_

"_**That'd be him."**_

"_**Sucks. I has having fun."**_

"_**I was actually enjoying our little conversation as well. You're shit at giving advice though, I'm afraid."**_

"_**Excuse me?"**_

"_**Did I stutter?"**_

"_**Eh. I can't believe that you're abandoning me to spend my night with the rest of these ass-grabbers."**_

"_**Well, you could always get a girlfriend."**_

He grinned, momentarily forgetting what he looked like. _**"I thought you were my girlfriend."**_

"_**Um, no."**_

"_**Damn."**_

"_**Well, gotta go."**_

"_**Wait." **_Chance paused for a moment, and then decided to take the plunge. _**"Can I get your e-Mail?"**_

"_**... Why?"**_

"_**So we could still chat or something. It's not like I'm going to come to your house and watch you sleep or anything."**_

"_**Way to be creepy."**_

"_**Come on."**_

Faith glanced at the clock. She'd chatted longer than she intended, but she really had enjoyed the conversation. It was nice speaking to a faceless individual. There was no judgement.

"_**Fine. But, for the record, part of me still believes that you're a creepy old man."**_

"_**I can deal with that."**_

"_**Okay." **_Shy typed out her e-mail and sent it off. _**"Talk to you later, stalker."**_

"_**Love you, too."**_

Faith rolled her eyes and exited the site.

* * *

Honestly, Chance had no idea why he had asked for the e-mail. She wasn't about to cheat on her boyfriend, especially not with someone like him.

But... maybe it would be nice to have someone to talk to until the curse was broken. He had to admit, he liked talking to the girl. It was a relief to have a conversation without constantly trying to make the woman on the other end love him.

He'd heard that people fell in love on the Internet all the time, but they were few and far between. Most of the people out there were too interested to see him on a webcam or get together for sex to build a real relationship with.

Chance went back to the conversations that he had neglected and found that most people had logged out. Strangely, he wasn't too disappointed about that.

* * *

Faith had nearly forgotten the whole incident. Life was too hectic with Christmas Holidays going on and all of her friends wanting to get together and do stuff before School restarted. Faith was looking forward to the new semester. She was taking Women's Studies, which she had heard was a great course, and she missed University.

Never the less, she checked her e-mail semi regularly, and she was never dissapointed to get a funny line or two in an email from her chatmate. She would type out an equally witty response and press send before returning to her crazy life.

* * *

Chance hated Christmas. He always had. He hadn't spoken to his family in years, and the time just reminded him that they were all out there somewhere doing whatever it was families were supposed to do during this stupid commercial holiday.

His only "joy" was getting an e-mail every once and a while from the mystery girl from the chatroom. He had added her to his MSN account (he wanted to talk to her without any of those other annoying chatroom people bothering them), but she never seemed to be on.

_Must be nice to have a normal life._ He thought bitterly. _If that bitch hadn't made me like this, I could be out getting drunk right now with a hot chick on each arm._

But he brushed the thought away. It was no good to think about what he could be doing. His time was better spend trying to find someone on the internet who could change him back. But they were all so... so _wrong_.

_If only they could all be funny like her..._

_

* * *

_

Finally,

Faith thought. It was the night classes re-started, and she had finally finished getting together with all of her crazy friends. Robers couldn't see her the weekend, and now that seemed like it was years away.

She had time now. She could do whatever she wanted.

Faith made a quick list of the girly things she wanted to do: paint her nails, paint her toenails, watch a few vampire movies and read a good book. She could also get a few interesting recipie ideas from YouTube and make a cake or something.

She went to her computer. She meant find a recipe and then go about her night. Instead, her MSN automatically logged her in and let her know she had an e-mail, and her mystery pen pall wanted to add her to MSN.

_Okay. _She added him. He already had her e-mail. She was stuck with him.

He sent her an instant message: _**"Hi, long time no see!**_

She began typing: _**"Hi there. I've been running around for Christmas."**_

She had replied! For some reason, this pleased Chance to no ends. _**"Lucky you. I hate Christmas."**_

"_**I think I'm beginning to hate it, too. Why are people so expensive? I'm broke from buying presents."**_

It was so good talking to her in real time. He let his most promising chat with a redheaded bimbo sporting huge implants lapse. _**"Did you get anything good in return?" **_

Faith felt like she was complaining a bit much, but that was what Christmas was all about, so... _**"Not really. I got a good CD, but I already have it, so..."**_

The bimbo fought for his attention, but Chance ignored her. He was sick of talking about her back problems. _**"Return it."**_

"_**She insisted that we open it at the party and listen to it."**_

"_**Sucks to be you."**_

Faith stopped herself typing that her friend meant well. _**"Indeed. At least I get to go back to classes tomorrow and be rid of this holiday crap."**_

"_**Excitement."**_

"_**Yuppers. I get to take Women's Studies, FINALLY!"**_

"_**... What is that, feminist crap?" **_Chance realized too late that he had typed something rather offensive. Especially if this chick actually _was_ (God forbid) a feminist.

"_**No! It's about female struggles for equality. I mean, take for instance here."**_

"_**Here where?"**_

Faith rolled her eyes, fully aware that he could not see her. _**"Canada. Before 1880, women couldn't vote. Then in Ontario, widows and unmarried women were given the right in 1884. Then Manitoba gave the right in 1916. It didn't get through the whole country until 1918."**_

Chance had to admit: he was impressed._**"How do you know these things?" **_

"_**Because I'm a woman, and I appreciate my rights every time to vote. But I was wrong about every woman in Canada having the right to vote in 1918. Quebec stuck until 1940."**_

"_**I'm not even going to pretend that I knew any of that."**_

"_**Good."**_

Chance felt that she was still miffed, and he wanted to make things okay again. _**"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to belittle your Women's Studies. I guess I'm just a guy."**_

Faith was surprised that he would apologise. Most guys would try to cover their ignorance. _**"It's fine. I just get pissed off when people try to pretend it isn't important. But it really, really is."**_

"_**I've never actually met a feminist."**_

"_**I'm not really a feminist. I like a little pink and sparkle and having a door opened for me every now and then. I just don't like being objectified."**_

Chance thought on it for a moment. As a model, back when he had had testicles and a single pair of eyelids, most people had simply seen him as a male model, and thus an idiot. Movies like **Zoolander** didn't exactly help. He could understand the feeling that people were only seeing his surface and taking him as a moron, rather than the fuller person he really was.

"_**You know, I can actually relate to that."**_

Faith was pleased. She didn't have to explain how she could like pink and still not like being an object. _**"Well then, you understand. Now think about how how people have treated you badly – because you are an attractive male, or because you are young, or for whatever reason. Moreover, think about how it would be to have people take that particular trait of yours and say they are not equal to the rest of the human race. So now you can't vote, you can't work, you can't do anything. You're still a human, but you don't have the same rights."**_

Chance hadn't thought of it that way. He'd always thought that stay-at-home moms were just lazy, and he hadn't voted for the last five years at least. He'd never considered that, not only had women not always had the right to vote, but they had fought and suffered for it. _**"That's what its like?"**_

"_**Yup. And its not just women who have to deal with it. People of different races and ethnicity's, people of certain sexual orientations, people of different religions... millions still experience that sort of ignorance. And that's why I want to take that class."**_

Suddenly, Chance understood her. _**"Those who don't know the history are doomed to repeat it."**_

Faith smiled. _**"Exactly."**_

"_**So... how are things going with He Who Worships?"**_

"_**Oh, don't get me started..."**_

* * *

Faith and Chance spent the rest of the night chatting pleasantly, until Faith had to log off and go to bed. They both decided that they would talk again, and soon.

* * *

**AN: **Sorry about the long wait. My life is just as hectic as Faith's, if not more. Women's Studies ROCKS!

... oh, and those facts on Women's Suffrage are, as should be obvious, Canadian. Because Faith and Chance are Canadian... although, somehow I think Chance may be somewhere out in the great un-Canadian wilderness with the rate at which his house displaces itself...

Please Review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

_Self-pity is our worst enemy – _Helen Keller

Chance was sorry to see the girl go. He really enjoyed talking to her. He didn't feel like he had to _try_ with her. He could just be himself... which, strangely enough, made him feel more human than his model persona ever had.

He checked up on his conversation with the redheaded bimbo and found that she had left, proclaiming him "too boring to carry on a dialogue with". He wasn't too choked up about it. Chance left the desk chair, which groaned when his ass lifted from it. He still hadn't worked up the courage to weigh himself, but Chance had a sneaking suspicion that he had gained at least a hundred pounds in his transformation. And he did not give a shit that it was all pure, hard muscle.

Chance couldn't help but wonder if he wouldn't be hearing groaning complaints from furniture for years to come.

With a small sigh (which sounded very much like a growl, coming from him) Chance moved towards his bedroom, only to find that his house had rearranged itself yet _again_ while he was on the computer. It did that every time he got an email message from the girl (who was most likely being mentally molested by that moron who loved her so much right this moment, if she wasn't going to bed as she had claimed).

_I hate this fucking house so much..._ he let the words flow through his mind, but he didn't dare speak them aloud. He had fallen silent since he'd lost his humanity, aside from the odd scream of rage he would utter every now and again. When he did speak it was to beg the magic to give him something he needed.

Those few words were more than enough to show him that his voice was better left unused.

He found his bedroom and let himself fall onto the bed. His back ached from leaning over his laptop, and the bed groaned in protest. He swore at it in his mind and then turned on his side, his eyes carefully avoiding the mirror. He'd long since shattered it, but a few stubborn fragments still clung to the frame and those glimpses were more than enough to throw him into another fit of rage.

He'd asked the magic for alcohol, but it had gotten it wrong. He'd asked for the most expensive vodka in existence, and he'd gotten a crappy Vodka Cooler instead. He had no idea how that worked, but he was in no mood to argue. He grabbed the beverage from his littered night table and downed it, trying to ignore the rasping of his tongue against the bottle`s opening.

He tossed the empty bottle to the floor and began thinking about his great plan to break the spell. So far, he`d found no one. His pictures, lovely as they were, failed to attract someone he could tolerate.

Chance considered what he had spoken about earlier that night. Maybe he was thinking about this all wrong. Nice pictures couldn`t get him what he wanted if people were just going to pre-judge the person in the picture. Maybe he needed to make himself a little more three-dimensional. He did have a picture from when he did that cologne add... he looked dark and brooding in that one. He could use that as his display picture, and change up his user name and show that he was a thinker, too, not just a looker.

But it could still take years to find someone.

Chance thought his options over. He needed someone to love him. But they had to be smart, and caring, and have a mind of their own. The longer he spent on the internet, the more those things mattered to him. They needed to be able to carry on a conversation, and they needed to be able to make him laugh. They had to be serious when the time was right and supportive when he needed it. He needed someone he could love back.

Chance went over his various contact lists in his mind. No one really stood out... except... that girl.

The one he had spoken earlier had all of those qualifications. She could argue her own ideas, but she was sweet and funny, too. She was really concerned about people, and she was smart. But she was young, and he didn`t know what she looked like. What if she was some ugly hag with back acne and a unibrow?

No. She was confident. Maybe she wasn't the most georgeous girl in the world, but she was by no means hideous. He could deal with a few flaws here and there.

The real problem was that she had a boyfriend, and she was not going to cheat on him. She had self-control, and she cared too much to do something bitchy like that. Besides, she might not even be worth it. He could meet her and find out that he absolutely despised her in real life.

_I very much doubt that._

Fine. Assuming that she would fall for him and he for her, given the chance, how could he get her away from her smarmy little boyfriend and into his grasp? He couldn't exactly invite her over for coffee. One look at him and she would run screaming for the hills. Even if she liked his personality, his looks were enough to kill anyone's interest.

Sleep began to pull him under. Chance fought it for a moment, deciding that he would at least try for this internet girl. After all, he had nothing to loose.

He drifted into dreams filled with girls, each indescribably beautiful but impossible to recall after first sight.

* * *

Faith's first day back was a little stressful, but otherwise went off without a hitch. On first impressions, she decided that she liked all of her profs so far and didn't need to transfer out of any classes.

Yet.

She got home to her little apartment at five in the afternoon. She was supposed to work that night (she was a part time employee at the coffee shop down the street), but one of the other girls she worked with called her to ask if they could please switch shifts because she needed Friday night free. Faith agreed.

After marking the change on her callender, Faith went to brew herself some green tea. On the way, she remembered that she hadn't checked her email yet today.

_Oh, god,_ she thought, a faint smile playing on her lips, _I'm becoming an email whore. _But she couldn't help herself. The internet guy... she just clicked with him. He was funny, but he was not an idiot by any means. A little ignorant, sure, but she could set that straight.

Faith set her sights on the green tea. She filled her kettle and put it on the tiny lime-green stove top to boil (she often thought that her apartment had been chosen by people who wished to surround themselves with hugely bright colours in order to make their heads explode. Or something). She found a serviceable mug in her cramped little cupboard and was just searching for her obscenely large tea collection when her cell phone rang somewhere in her purse.

Her ring tone was David Bowie's _Changes_.

She knew before she went to answer it that it was Robert.

"Hi, Faith?"

She forced a smile. Apparently people could hear you smiling on the phone. "Hey, Robert."

"How was your day?"

"Good."

"Do you like your classes?"

"As much as I can only one day in."

"Good to hear." He paused for a moment. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. We don't have to be too late."

Faith paused. She didn't want to go out. She already knew how the date would go. He would take her out, spare no expense, and refuse to let her pay for anything. He would ask her about her day again and politely force her to go into the details. They would kiss. He would hold her a moment longer than she wanted him to. He would cater to her every whim until the inevitable moment when he would ask her to his place for coffee, which invariably meant "sex, please". She would beg off, saying she had to get up early, and he would always understand with an almost frustrated look in his eyes.

If she said no, as she had the last two times he extended such an offer, he would sound heartbroken on the phone. Faith still wasn't sure if he was actually as choked up about it as he seemed to be, or if that was just his plan to get her to go out with him so she could ultimately withhold sex from him.

Things had only gotten worse since he called her up on Christmas day, talked to her for about twenty minutes and then blurted "I love you!". She had quietly replied, "Um... thanks... love you too..."

In the decidedly un-Christmasy present, Faith heard herself say, "Sure. I'd love to go out."

"Oh, good. I'll be there to pick you up in an hour or so."

"Sweet. I'll get dressed."

She hung up, feeling like a total bitch.

* * *

Chance had taken an hour off from his chick searching to watch some TV. For some reason he was addicted to the show _House_. Probably because House was total prick and women still seemed to like him. However, Chance would never admit that to himself because he was not just a prick. He was a monster prick _without_a prick, which made entirely less love able than an unshaven asshole with a limp.

But then, if the plan he had half-formed in his mind over night worked as he wanted it to, he wouldn't be a monster prick for long.

He got up for a drink and found that the whole house had, once again, rearranged itself. That meant that the girl had sent him an email. Chance bolted for his laptop, drink forgotten. He tried to log on as quickly as possible, but he screwed up several times and had to slow down in order to force is clawed fingertips to type in his password properly.

He read:_** "Sorry to bug you, but I'm going out with him tonight. I think I need to break up with him. I feel like such a bitch. I need to talk to you later so you can convince me that I'm not a total waste of life."**_

Chance's eyes travelled over the words two more times before he realized that this was exactly the moment he had been waiting for. With the worshiping boy out of the way, Chance might just have a chance with this girl.

* * *

Robert took her to the Clay Oven for a light dinner. Then he took her to _Twilight_, even though he hated vampire movies and Faith insisted that they should go see that new Clint Eastwood movie instead. He was so adamant, Faith didn't have the heart to tell him that she already saw _Twilight _when it came out. With her gay boyfriend.

Faith sat through the movie, enjoying it only on the most insignificant level as she fought a battle within herself. Robert loved her. She knew that because of the way he had his arm around her. She knew it every time he leaned in and glanced at her face to make sure that she was enjoying the movie. She felt him run the back of his hand against the line of her jaw, accidentally on purpose, when he was reaching for the popcorn. The way his skin gently moved against hers promised that he wanted nothing more than to make her happy.

She held the greasy bag between her hands, the smell of fake butter nauseatingly thick in her nostrils.

Half way through the movie, he leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Do you ever wish that I was a little more like this Edward guy?"

"No, Robert." She gave him a small peck on the cheek, hating herself. "You're perfect as you are."

She let herself be held throughout the rest of the movie, even leaning her head against his shoulder. In return she got a terrible kink in her neck.

* * *

Faith and Robert walked to the parking lot quietly. Faith was still clinging to the greasy bag of popcorn.

"Faith?"

She was startled by his voice. "Hmmm? Yes?"

"Are you mad at me?"

Suddenly she hated herself all over again. "Oh, no, not at all. Why would I be?"

"You're just all quiet lately. You've been like this since I called on Christmas. I thought things would be okay after you said you would go out with me, but..."

"Oh..." Faith dropped the popcorn without noticing. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm sorry. I'm angry at myself, is all."

"Is it because I keep asking you over?" he murmured.

Faith let her eyes meet his. "... I guess... but... it's just because I'm not ready for that step yet."

"God. I just can't get anything right." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Finally, I start getting close to someone and I just fuck it up."

"No you didn't..."

"I just..."

"Robert,"

Without stopping to think, Faith put her arms around him and held him close. She had never, _ever_ wanted to make him feel like this. Somehow, she had wanted to make the suffering be hers and hers alone, so he could leave the relationship without anything left to tie him down... apparently, all she had done was hurt him.

"Its not your fault." She murmured, her face buried in his jacket. "I'm sorry."

She could hear his heart as it began to race. Slowly, Robert's arms closed around her. He swallowed twice before murmuring, "Do you hate me?"

"No. No." She felt no need to remove her face from the front of his jacket.

"Are you in love with someone else?"

"No." Faith pulled her head back the tiniest bit. She found herself looking into sad, green eyes.

"I love you, you know." He murmured. "I worship you."

"I know."

"But... you don't love me, do you?"

Faith faltered. How could she reply? She closed her eyes for a long moment, breathing air in through her mouth.

"You can tell me." He sighed, releasing her from the embrace. "I'm pretty sure I already know the answer."

"I... I do care about you." Faith murmured, and she found that she was being perfectly honest. "I do want to build a relationship with you. I just... I'm not as in love as you are."

"Hm." His head fell a few inches, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. He was thinner, less pimply, less self-conscious... but he was still Robert. "Thought so."

"I'm still a virgin. I've never been far enough into a relationship to even contemplate sex... but I've been obsessing about it for weeks now." Faith murmured. She shifted her weight from one foot to another. "Maybe I'm not ready for love right now... but you're the closest I've ever come."

He let his eyes meet hers again. "I've been the awkward guy since before I can remember. I've always been fatter than everyone else... slower than everyone else... less popular than everyone else... I'd never had a girlfriend before. And then I got set up with you. This gorgeous girl with an amazing personality and – best of all – she pays attention to me. Might even be able to see me as a man, rather than this blob of loser."

"Robert-" Faith tried to interject, but he wasn't finished. Her eyes frosted over from tears collecting in the corners.

"I've done everything I could to make myself more attractive for you. I started working out. I started making friends. I'm not awkward anymore. I'm just... normal." His voice nearly broke, but he gained control. His breath frosted in the cold winter air. Robert took a moment before closing the distance between them. "Why can't you just love me?"

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm incapable of love." Faith breathed. A tear broke free and she stepped away, wiping at it angrily. Why did she have to hurt him so badly?

"Oh, god. Are you crying?" Robert moved forward as though unsure of what to do. Comfort her? Hold her? Tell her over and over again that he loved her, if she just loved him back, it would be okay?

"No." Faith took a quick breath, unable to meet his eye. "I think I should go home. I'll take a bus."

"Wait-"

Faith cupped his chin, stood on her tip-toes, and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry. Emma must have thought that I was a better person than I am, or else she would never have set you up with me."

She walked away from him to the bus terminal. She didn't look back. She was afraid that, if she did, she would see him running towards her and she would stop.

Instead, she caught the eastbound seventy-seven back to her apartment building and Robert stood in the parking lot watching her.

* * *

**AN:** Faith and I just have too much trouble with guys... This chapter was inspired by the Twilight Soundtrack, which I'm addicted to. From here, Chance and Faith may or may not finally meet.

And now, for my reply to an anonymous review...

_**Anne: **I'm glad you found the story again! BatB is my favorite fairy tale, Disney or otherwise. I'm happy to be providing you with a modern twist fix whilist doing myself the same favor!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Anne:**The song for the last chapter was Never Think by Rob Pattinson, off of the Twilight soundtrack. Gotta love that CD. If you like having a sort of Sountrack while you read, I can provide each song that inspires me for each chapter, if you'd like. For this chapter it would be River Flows in You, by Yurima. It was rumored to be the first choice for Bella's Lullabye, but of course it wasn't.

**Five**

_The only completely consistent people are the dead – _Aldous Huxley

Faith managed to make it to her apartment before she began sobbing. She dropped her purse, falling against the door and sliding down to the floor. She put her hands to her face, letting thoughts of what a terrible person she was make her cry harder.

Emma had warned her that Robert was super into her. Why did she have to make him feel so bad? Why did she have to destroy this relationship for him, when he'd only worked to make her happy?

_Maybe this is why I've only had negative romantic relations up to this point. I just don`t deserve anything better._

It was a full ten minutes before she could pull herself up and go into her room to change into her PJs. She covered the mirror first. She didn`t feel like looking at herself.

* * *

Chance checked his email every ten minutes, even though his house had not rearranged itself and thus he knew that he hadn`t gotten a reply to his reply. Around three in the morning, Chance fell asleep at the computer. The girl still did not reply.

* * *

Faith did not go to class the next day. She tried, but she could not make herself leave her bed. Thoughts of the pain she had caused were too much to bear.

She slept in as late as she could, then she took a sleeping pill to sleep longer. In total, Faith was in bed for about sixteen hours before she was able to rise and take a shower. When she got out, her phone was beeping. She opened it to find a text from Robert: **"Sorry. I didn't mean to wreck your night."**

Faith dropped the phone and went back to bed. It was easier than facing the world.

* * *

Robert went to Faith's apartment the next night. He wanted to make things better. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to love him. She didn't have to have sex with him. As long as she cared about him, as she said that she had, he could survive...

He made it to her door and poised himself to knock before second thoughts washed over him. He heard nothing inside the apartment. He listened carefully, paranoid that she might be on the other side of the door looking through the peephole, thinking that he was an idiot.

He thought he was an idiot.

"Um... Faith?" he called. "Its Robert. I just wanted to stop by and... apologise, I guess. I overreacted last night. I can deal with you not loving me. I just... I don't want to loose you because I'm being stupid."

He paused for a long moment, wondering if she was there. He got no reply. After waiting another five minutes, Robert went home, unsure of what to think.

* * *

Faith woke abruptly. She thought she heard a voice, but when she listened closer, there was nothing.

Well, at least she was up. She left her bed and went to the computer. On the student website, she could get the email addresses of students taking the same classes as her and ask about what she had missed that day.

A message automatically popped up from her internet friend:_**"Don't worry. You are not a bitch. You deserve what's going to make you happy, and if he's not it, you need to dump him and get on with your life. You are too young to be tied down in a relationship that just makes you feel bad."**_

This brought a sting of tears to her eyes, but she could manage it. She typed,_**"I'm not so sure I deserve anything good. I told him how I felt and I totally destroyed him."**_

He was signed on, and replied quickly._**"How so?"**_

"_**I don't want to talk about it, if its all the same to you."**_

"_**No, I totally understand." **_Chance realized that he had only ever bad mouthed the boyfriend before. Had he caused her to break up with him? He hadn't realized that a break up would do this to her. He felt ghastly. _**"It must have been hard for you."**_

"_**Why can't I just love him for loving me?"**_Faith asked, tears coming back to her eyes._** "Why can't I just appreciate that he cares about me?"**_

Chance was desperate to make her feel better, to fix his mistake. _**"Maybe you need more than that."**_

Faith brushed him off. She didn't want him to make her feel better. _**"What I need is a lobotomy, if this is the way I treat people."**_

Chance could not believe what he was reading. How could she be so down on herself? _**"Don't talk like that. Everyone has break ups. You just had a bad one. Its part of life. Its supposed to happen."**_

"_**Am I supposed to hate myself afterwards?"**_

"_**No." **_

"_**I just want to erase myself."**_

"_**No. You don't. Don't say that**_**." **He got no reply from her. Afraid that she would log off and do harm to herself, mentally if not physically, he fought to keep her in the present._**"What's your name? I never did catch it."**_

"_**Faith." **_Had she been in a better mental state, she might not have given it so easily.

"_**That's a lovely name." **__Chance offered._

"_**Yes, for someone who destroys others, it is."**_

"_**Please stop talking like that."**_

"_**Why?"**_

Chance answered honestly_. __**"Because you're worrying me."**_

"_**Why would you be worried about me? I'm just some bitch from the internet."**_

"_**No, Faith, you're not."**_

"_**Then what am I?"**_

"_**My friend." **_Chance typed it without even thinking.

"_**You don't want a friend like me." **_Faith replied.

"_**Just breaking up with someone doesn't make you a bad person. Its partially his fault, if he wanted you so badly. He needed a little more self control. You reacted like anyone else would. You aren't an object. You don't have to be with someone just because they want you to."**_

Faith read his words over carefully, but did not reply. She didn't know what she would say.

Chance went on_. __**"Your problem is that you're too worried about him. You care too much. Give it a few days, and everything will seem a lot better."**_

"_**You weren't there. You didn't see his face."**_

"_**I don't think I have to. I've been in relationships before."**_Chance thought about the female models he'd dated in the past. They had struggled so hard to keep him when he wanted to end the relationship... but they all got over it eventually. Her boyfriend would do the same_. __**"Time heals all wounds."**_

Faith's mind pressed through her self-hatred just enough to wonder how in the hell the funny ass she'd been talking to for the last few weeks had suddenly become such a poignant speaker.

Chance waited five minutes. There was no reply. _**"Faith? Are you still with me?"**_

"_**Yeah."**_

"_**Please don't feel so bad."**_Had Chance been human at the moment, and in the same room as her, he would have put his arms around her. He desperately wanted to do that.

"_**I can't exactly will it away."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_**Have you ever done anything like this to anyone?"**_

"_**Yes. But I didn't feel the way you do."**_

She did not reply. Chance waited another five minutes. He closed his eyes and straightened in his chair. It squealed and his back cracked as he shifted positions.

"_**Faith?"**_

"_**What?"**_

He wanted to put an end to her pain_. __**"You didn't love him, right?"**_

"_**No, I didn't."**_

"_**So, if you didn't break up with him tonight, what would have happened?"**_

"_**I don't know."**_

"_**Would you have married him after you finished your degree? Would you have popped out a few kids and finished your life as a miserable, trapped woman?"**_

"_**No."**_

"_**You would have broken up with him eventually."**_

Chance waited another five minutes. He hoped that his words had sounded as supportive and gentle as they had in his head. He glanced at her infuriatingly impersonal display picture and wondered what she looked like.

"_**You're right."**_Her reply came finally.

He breathed an audible sigh of relief._**"Does that make you feel any better."**_

"_**No**_**."** He nearly threw the laptop across the room in frustration until she added,_**"But... it would have happened, no matter what."**_

He could not have been more pleased with himself. With the smirk he had on his face Chance looked like a deranged muppet, but he didn't care_. __**"You won't feel so bad once he gets over it. I promise."**_

"_**I guess I'll just have to wait for that."**_

"_**Well, didn't you say that he just lost weight and gotten more confident?"**_

"_**Until I crushed it."**_

"_**He'll find someone else who wants to be worshiped. And you'll move on."**_

Still in her PJ's, Faith found that a little hard to believe_._ _**"I wish I could be as sure of it as you are."**_

"_**You'll learn soon enough."**_

"_**God, I wish I could talk to you in real life."**_

"_**I feel the same way."**_

* * *

Somewhere in the wee small hours of the morning, when Chance was getting ready for bed, he didn't think about his curse or of his need to find some hapless woman desperate enough to fall in love with him. Instead, he thought about Faith.

He hoped that she was okay.

* * *

Faith went back to bed, but she could hardly sleep. She forced herself not to think about Robert. Instead, she wondered about the mysterious guy on the internet.

He had asked her name. She had not asked his.

Why had he cared so much about her? He barely knew her, and their conversations never went too far past the surface. They simply talked about life in its simplest terms. Never had she spoken to him about emotions, or pain, or their individual experienced with either. And yet, when she had needed someone to talk to, he had risen to the occasion.

Why?

* * *

Faith went to school the next day. She wasn't too thrilled about it. She and Robert had similar schedules, and she was not in the mood to talk to him yet. She would only make things worse.

She rode the bus with her iPod blocking out the coughing, snoring, and yapping around her. Slowly, she thought over her conversation with the internet guy. She couldn't get him out of her mind.

How could someone who claimed to be as hot as he was (she was slowly beginning to believe that he looked like his display picture no matter how hard she tried to deny it) still care about things aside from looks? None of the attractive men she had dated in the past would have taken the time to console her as he had. No one would have even thought to tell her things would be better in time, if she only tried to get through it.

Who was he?

Why did he care?

And why did she suddenly want to know more about him?

She was so intent on her thoughts that she didn't even realize that Robert was there until he sat down beside her. She moved her purse on instinct and glanced towards him, tearing the speakers from her ears when she realized who it was.

"Robert?"

"Hi." He murmured.

She felt like shit all over again. "Look, Robert, I didn't mean-"

"Its okay." He replied. "I've thought about how I acted and... I feel like a total ass. I had no right to blow up on you like I did."

"Well... I didn't exactly help matters much."

"There's not much you can do when there's a crazy ex-fat guy guilting you in a freezing parking lot," He muttered, smiling so she would know that he was joking.

"I just feel terrible about what hapened." Faith sighed.

"Well, I've thought about it." Robert said, clearing his throat. "I'm fine if you want to break up with me. I mean, I'll be miserable, but it won't be your fault. I got too clingy and I was asking too much from you."

Faith said nothing.

"But... I really, _really_ want to be with you, if you want me to. You don't have to love me. You don't have to sleep with me. But, if you care about me... I wouldn't mind having some sort of relationship with you. It doesn't have to be boyfriend-girlfriend. We can just be good friends, if you want to. Or I can just piss -"

"I would like that." Faith murmured. "Not you pissing off, I mean, but still... you know... having something."

Robert nodded and swallowed. "Okay."

"And we can just put what happened the other night behind us, okay?"

"Okay."

Faith sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, though."

"I thought we were putting that behind us."

"We were. We are. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Robert grinned. "Is it okay if I give you a hug, or would that just be too creepy?"

"No," Faith replied, allowing herself a tiny smile. "Go for it."

He put one arm around her shoulders ans squeezed before releasing her. "Do I still get to hang out with you? As long as its not romantic, I mean?"

"Only if I get to pay for my own stuff." Faith replied.

"Okay."

Faith nodded. She offered him one of the earbuds. "Want to listen?"

"To what?"

"Cyndi Lauper."

"Sure."

Faith finished the bus ride to school feeling a hell of a lot better than when she started it.

* * *

Chance slept in late the next morning. He had been too busy worrying about Faith to sleep properly. When he finally propelled himself from the bed, he found that it was situated in the middle of the living room.

His house had rearranged itself once again. This could only mean one thing: email.

Chance searched for his computer. He found it on the edge of the bathtub, and after an extensive search he finally found its cord in the fridge. He set it up, connected to the internet, and received the email.

"_**Thank you so much for being so understanding last night. I am so lucky to have found you out there in the internet. You are beyond a good friend. I don't know what I would have done without you there to keep me in the real world. I just wish I could meet someone like you in real life.**_

_**Thanks again,**_

_**Faith"**_

Chance couldn't help the smile that spread across his features.

* * *

**AN: **awww...


	6. Chapter 6

**Anne: **no prob. I love music, I don't mind giving out the music that inspires me. This chapter is Stuck in a Hard Place by Blue Foundation. I'm glad you're liking the story and that it's not too rushed. Usually that's my biggest problem. People just meet and ten minutes later BANG! They're in love.

**Six**

_I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now? – _John Lennon

Faith slowly eased into the new rhythm of her life. Classes, work and studying took up most of her time. Her spare moments were divided amongst friends, family, and the odd girly treat that she allowed herself. Her dad got a promotion and her mother phoned every once and a while to ask her if she still thought living on her own was a good idea. Faith insisted that it was. When she could, Faith went out with her friends. She bought herself a new (warmer) winter jacket. She also taught herself how to cook full meals in less than three hours.

Every once and a while she would fire off an email to her internet friend. She still had not asked his name.

* * *

About two weeks into the new semester she was typing up the rough draft for an essay when her cell phone rang. She picked it up and flipped it open, still typing with one hand.

"Hi."

"Hi sweetie."

"Mom! How are you?" She saved what she had so far and closed the program.

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good."

"How's the boob?" Faith asked.

Her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when Faith was sixteen. One day she found a lump and went to the doctor. He said that it was nothing, but did a mammogram and a biopsy anyways. The mammogram revealed multiple growths, and the biopsy revealed that it was cancer.

Doctors had tried to save what they could, but during surgery they found that it was necessary for her entire left breast to be removed. Faith's mother refused to mourn it. She'd had reconstructive surgery and from henceforth she would not look back on the time with anything but good humor.

"Good. How are yours?"

"Fine."

"Hows school?"

"Good. I'm having fun in women's studies."

"That's great. Do you need me and dad to send you any money?"

"No. I can take care of myself."

"I just wish you'd just move back home. I don't like my baby being out by herself."

Faith laughed. "Mom, I'm going to be nineteen in May. According to the government, I'm an adult."

"The government has no idea what its talking about."

"Yeah." Faith smiled. Talking to her mom always made her day better.

* * *

As Faith's schedule got busier, Chance got gloomier. He understood that she was busy with her education, but he wished that she had more time for the little things... like talking to him.

He was really beginning to care about her.

He wondered what Faith would have thought of him if she met him... before. He probably would have disgusted her. He had been attractive, but he was beginning to realize that he had never been a good person. He had treated women like objects. He had no regard for others. He had treated his family like utter trash until they got tired of it and pushed him away. He had always thought that he was above everyone and everything... but he was beginning to see that he was wrong.

Chance had long since left the computer and was trying to fill the hours with something else. He was tired of _House_. In fact, he was tired of anything that worked with the TV. He wanted to do something that wasn't so... mindless.

He'd asked Faith if she'd read any good books lately. She'd sent him a list. He'd promptly asked the magic for all of the books on it and, rather than dicking him around as it usually did, he found them a stack next to his bed ten minutes later.

_The Handmaid's Tale_ was on the top. He took it and went into the living room.

* * *

Later that night, just before going to bed, Faith performed a self examination of both her breasts. Talking to her mom made her feel a little more cautious about her health.

As did so, she wondered how her mom had felt when her fingertips first brushed over the lump. Had she been afraid straight away, or had she been able to ignore it until the doctor spelled out her fate? What had it been like to wake up from the operation and find that a piece of herself had been sliced away?

Faith remembered the day her mom came home from the mastectomy. She had been tired, withdrawn, and miserable. The day she came home from the reconstructive surgury, she had been tired, content, and loving.

Pleased that there were no changes, Faith put on her nightshirt and pulled back the blankets, her bare feet cold against the floor. She slipped in between the sheets and pulled her pillow into a comfortable position.

As she drifted into her sleep, Faith wondered if she could have been half so brave as her mother, had she been in the same situation.

* * *

Chance took a minute to check his email, even though he knew that his house hadn;t changed. He was hoping that something had just been overlooked, or that he hadn't noticed the house change because it had done it so bloody often.

Nothing.

He wanted so badly to talk with her.

He wondered if he would ever be able to see her in real life.

Chance tried to go back to reading, but for the moment he couldn't focus. His mind was preoccupied with Faith. She was so... different, from everything he'd ever known. How could he make it so that he could meet her? He certainly couldn't do it as he was. If she saw him, she'd run.

_No._

Maybe she was different. She was kinder than he had been. Maybe there was hope... that if she met him, she would just ignore his outside and think of the man she knew from her computer...

But that was stupid. He was repulsive. He was an animal. An animal that could think, and speak, and read, but an animal none the less. All of the handsome pictures in the world couldn't change that.

If he explained the curse...?

No. She'd never believe him. People who went to university didn't believe in curses or magic. It would be easier to say that he was a biological abnormality, that he had been borne by a human mother but had somehow mutated into... what he was...

He'd seen hairy humans on TV. A rare genetic anomaly made regular humans grow excessive amounts of hair, even on their faces. But they at least had a human shape. He had the shape of an animal. To ever be human again, he needed to love and be loved. But no one could love him looking as he did. He'd been a monster for... two years now.

The number was staggering to him.

For two years, he hadn't been in the presence of another being. He had been totally and utterly alone, aside from a few conversations with hyper-sexed people on the internet. The only meaningful relationship he had managed to develop had been with Faith, and that had no hope...

He wanted to meet her so, so badly.

* * *

Faith logged into her laptop before going to work, only to find that there was no message from her internet friend. She was disappointed. Of all the things she was forced to put aside in her new busy schedule, he was the one thing she really, really missed. If he had been a real life friend, this wouldn't be happening. She would have made time no matter what.

_If only he could be my real life friend..._

* * *

Faith loved her job at the coffee shop. She loved the people she worked with, the customers that came regularly, and the fact that she did not have to wear a uniform aside from a purple apron. Most of all, she loved that she always came home smelling of mocha.

They were closing in an hour. One of the regulars (her Biology prof from the first term) was reading the newspaper and drinking Rooibos Renewal tea. Faith and her work friend, Cat, were wiping down the unused tables when Robert walked in.

"Here comes trouble." Cat said, waving him over. Lowering her tone and brushing a strand of blond hair from her eyes, she added, "I still don't see why you had to just be friends with him."

"Shut up, its complicated." Faith muttered.

"Hi. You guys still serving?" Robert asked when he was closer to them.

"Yup." Faith abandoned her cleaning cloth. "What'll it be?"

"Um... a large Colombia Supremo. No cream or sugar."

"You're going to be up all night." Faith replied as she went behind the counter to make it. He followed her and stood out on the customer's side.

"Eh. I have to write an essay."

"What for?"

"Evil in Religion."

Faith put a sleeve on a paper cup. "Is that class any good?"

"I like it." He shrugged. "So how are you doing?"

"Aside from having no life? Good. How about you?"

"I'm okay."

"That's good."

"Yes, my life is hectic too, thank you both for asking." Cat called across the shop.

"Shut up and wash the tables." Faith called back. She poured the coffee into a cup, fixed the lid, and handed it to Robert. "Three bucks."

"It got cheaper?"

"Employee discount."

"He doesn't work here." Cat called.

"I'm going to slap her..." Faith sighed.

Robert laughed and handed over the money. The bio prof folded his newspaper, waved a thank-you to Cat and Faith, and left. "So... did you have any plans for tomorrow night?"

Faith thought. "No. I have Fridays off."

"I have no plans either." Cat muttered to herself.

Robert ignored her. "Did you want to see a movie or something?"

Faith considered. Since the _Twilight_ incident, she had only seen Robert on the bus or on campus. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel about going out with her boyfriend-turned-friend less than a month after a huge blow up.

"Which movie?" she asked.

"That new one with Kevin James. You know, the funny guy from _King of Queens_?"

"Oh." A comedy. It seemed safe enough. "Sure."

"I'll pick you up around six?"

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Chance finished the third book in the pile and went back to get another one. That's when he realized that, somewhere between chapter sixteen and the end of the novel, his house had rearranged itself.

_Faith!_

He found his laptop and logged on.

"_**Found another good book for you,"**_ she'd typed, _**"**_**The Gargoyle, **_**by Andrew Davidson. Its one of the best stories I've ever read. It actually made me cry at the end."**_

He replied before she could log off and leave him alone. _**"How are you?"**_

"_**Fine. Since when are you off the internet? I've been on for a half hour already."**_

"_**Sorry. I've been reading."**_

"_**Don't be sorry."**_ Faith smiled. She had missed him._** "What did you just read?"**_

"**Johnny Got His Gun**_**. It was disturbing."**_

Faith agreed. She was getting to be a book masochist. _**"I had to read that for English last sememster. I had nightmares."**_

"_**Why don't they let him out? He needs to show people what war really means."**_

"_**Yes, but then all of those pretty little rich people would have to get off of their asses and fight the wars themselves, wouldn't they?"**_

"_**... Still..."**_

"_**I know."**_

There was a long pause. Chance wondered again if he would ever get to meet this girl, if he would ever be able to see her and touch her and listen to her voice. He closed his eyes as something very close to despair washed over him.

"_**Is it okay if I ask you a really weird question, at the risk of sounding like a stalker?"**_

"_**Sure."**_

Faith paused. She had been toying with this idea in the back of her mind, but hadn't had the time to flesh it out. _**"Um... you're Canadian, right?"**_

"_**Yes."**_ As far as he knew, his house was still in Canada.

"_**Are you from Manitoba?"**_

"_**Yes."**_

Originally, he had been born in London, Ontario, but he had been raised in Winnipeg, Manitoba. When he started modelling, he had moved to Toronto... but there was nothing Toronto-esque about the places his house would randomly displace to. If it hadn't been for all the snow, he would have thought he was in some random desert.

"_**You wouldn't happen to be in Winnipeg, would you?"**_

He paused for a long time before answering. _**"Is that were you live?"**_

"_**Yes, it is."**_

Chance thought back to the city where he'd grown up. He had never imagined a home for Faith, but somehow, Winnipeg fit.

Faith waited for him to respond. When he didn't, she typed, _**"Sorry. I didn't mean to come across as creepy."**_

"_**No. You don't." **_He paused. _**"You want to meet in real life?"**_

"_**Yes."**_

His heart thumped loudly. This was what he wanted. He could meet her. Maybe he could convince her that he was just as human as she was, and maybe...

"_**Is that... okay?"**_ She asked.

"_**Yes." **_Before going further, he realized that this wouldn't be so simple. She was expecting a handsome man. She was not expecting a monster. _**"But... I'm... not what you'd expect."**_

"_**What? You aren't a gross old man, are you?"**_

"_**No."**_ If only it were that simple. _**"But... the picture I'm using is... its not how I look now."**_

"_**I don't look like my display picture."**_

"_**Your display picture is depressed muffin."**_

"_**True."**_

He wanted to badly to explain himself to her, but he didn't want to risk scaring her away. _**"Will you be angry?"**_

Faith grinned to herself. _**"I really didn't expect you to be a supermodel."**_

"_**... Okay."**_ Should he go further?

"_**And, by the way... what is your name? You asked me, but I never asked you."**_

"_**Chance." **_

"_**Lovely."**_ She glanced at the time and realized that Robert would be there to pick her up any minute. _**"Are you okay with meeting, or do you want to put it off? I'd understand. I just wish I could meet the guy who's been such a help."**_

Chance considered. He could ask the magic to move his house to Winnipeg. _**"Would you mind coming to my place?"**_

Faith thought for a moment. Meetings were supposed to be in public places. But she felt so safe with... Chance. She liked the way his name sounded in her mind. And she felt that she could trust him...

"_**I have to go out tonight. Will you send me the information, and a time and date and everything?"**_

Chance's heart was still pounding. He felt strangely hopeful. Maybe... things could work out for him. She might be able to help him get his life back...

"_**Of course."**_

"_**Okay. Bye, Chance."**_

"_**Bye, Faith. Have a good time."**_

"_**I'll try."**_

She logged off and Chance, giddy with a strange mixture of excitement and fear, breathed a long breath to calm himself. He had no idea what he was going to do with himself.

* * *

**AN: **Good god, its happening!


	7. Chapter 7

**Anne:** This song is The Walk by Imogen Heap. Yes, they're MEETING! I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. I stayed up until 2:30 in the morning to finish this... and I'm sick, too. So here you are!

**Anonymous: **I hope this is a quick enough update!

**Seven**

_The human spirit cannot be paralysed. If you are breathing, you can dream_ – Mike Brown

Faith didn't realize the impact of her decision until she was seated at the movie with Robert. This time he was holding the popcorn.

She tried to remember how she'd felt about Chance when they first chatted. It was hard to think of him as anything other than the person who had helped her through her rough time. But... he hadn't always been like that. In the beginning, he had been incapable of going into deep conversation. He had been funny, but nothing more.

Something had changed.

Was she making a safe decision? People were tricked on the internet all the time. Chance had even admitted to using a false picture for his identity... but... somehow, she couldn't blame him for that.

She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking soley on how she felt about Chance. She didn't think he was dangerous. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. And there were reasons for him not to meet her in a public place. He might be handicapped, or physically damaged in some way. He might be a burn victim, and maybe he had used a picture from before he was hurt.

Whatever the reason, Faith felt that she simply had to trust him. If she felt any change towards him, she could leave. She was strong, able-bodied, and determined. She could get away if she really needed to.

* * *

Chance turned away from the computer, determined to make his house perfect for when Faith came to visit. He had to somehow make it move closer to where she was, and not displace until after he met her...

Suddenly, he noticed something strange: his room was perfectly clean, exactly as it had been before his transformation.

He left the room slowly, looking around his house, intent on his surroundings. Everything was as it had been before that horrible night. There wasn't a speck of dirt or dust to be had, and, though he still had the books and everything else he had collected over the last two years, they were filed neatly away now.

Everything was perfect...

Except...

There was a new door in the hallway.

Chance moved towards it. He didn't know what to make of this. The house had changed many times before, but it had never gone back to its original lay out... and it had never added rooms...

Carefully, Chance gripped the doorknob. He didn't know what he was expecting to find on the other side of the door, but what he did find when he finally opened the door was the furthest thing from his expectations.

It was a fully furnished bedroom. The walls were purple, and there was a hardwood floor. There was a canopy bed with a lilac-coloured quilt spread over the mattress. There was a desk and a wardrobe and a vanity and a chair and a bedside table with a dragon painted on its surface.

But there was more. Posters from bands he'd never heard of, a collection of novels and dvds on a set of shelves, and when he inspected the wardrobe he found that it was full of clothes.

Female clothes.

There was an expensive sound system on the desk and on the vanity there was a sparse collection of make-up: purple eyeliner, mascara, lip chap and some concealer. There was a half-used bottle of perfume on one side and a necklace rack on the other. The most disturbing thing of all was a framed picture of a sweet young woman with an asymmetrical bob and dark eyes in a green graduation gown, high school diploma in hand.

Chance backed out of the room quickly, slamming the door behind him. He didn't know why the room was there, but it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Now there was a note taped to the door. It had an address written on it.

It took Chance a moment to realize that this was meant to be his new address.

* * *

Robert drove Faith home, and she had to admit that it was nice to know that this was the end of the night. There would be no offer to go upstairs, there would be no unspoken agreements. It was almost like she could be closer to him when she didn't have to be close to him.

"Thanks." She said as he pulled up in front of her building.

He glanced over to her as he switched gears. "Hm?"

"For giving me an opportunity to get out and do something." Faith murmured. "And for letting us just be friends."

Robert nodded. "You thought it would be awkward, didn't you?"

"Honestly? ... a little." Faith admitted.

"Well, just goes to show you aren't right about everything." Robert replied, smiling smugly.

"Shutty." She got out of the car. "See you later."

"Bye."

* * *

Chance held the note in his hand for a long, long time. He was pleased to have the address, but the pleasure he felt was quickly smothered by less positive thoughts.

Firstly, why was a brand new room suddenly in his house? It couldn't possibly fit. Other rooms were still the same size and placement. Yet somehow there was a new room, fully decorated and ready for use.

Then there was the picture. He knew it was a picture of Faith. The question was, why was it there and where had it come from? Moreover, what was it supposed to mean?

Suddenly, Chance wasn't just feeling a little scared about what Faith would think of him on first sight. He was beginning to wonder what the magic thought he was going to do to her, if it had seen fit to provide him with a bedroom for her. Because that's what the picture had to mean, that the bedroom was meant for her.

Was he meant to kidnap her?

Chance sighed heavily. He wanted to meet her so badly... but if he was going to do something bad, how could he ask her to come to him?

* * *

Faith checked her email before going to bed. There was nothing.

It seemed a little strange that Chance hadn`t emailed her an address and a date. Usually he was always logged on, ready to set forth a barrage of emails and instant messages the moment she made an appearance.

Faith was too exhausted to wait for anything. She went to bed. She would check again in the morning.

* * *

Chance stayed awake all night. He paced through the rooms in his house, and every time he caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface he would growl and change directions.

What was it he was meant to do?

He comforted himself with the notion that he wouldn't hurt her, at least. People didn't needed bedrooms when they were dead. But a bedroom was used for living, sleeping, working... he couldn't imagine her spending that much time there. Unless...

Was he supposed to keep her there? Against her will? Was that the only way a monster like him could spend time with another human being? His heart wrenched at the thought of it.

"Please," he screamed into the air suddenly, turning ferociously towards the new bedroom. "There must be another way! Will she really hate me so much?"

The house mocked him with its silence.

Enraged, he tore into the new bedroom and destroyed it. Using his claws, he tore everything to shreds until the room became a mess of purple fabric and splintered wood. From the wreckage, Faith's picture stared up at him, her eyes questioning her future.

Chance retrieved it, breathing hard. The class was cracked, but otherwise it was fine. He looked down on the young woman, wondering how he was supposed to keep a girl like this away from everything that was dear to her. Was he really so terrible?

He closed his eyes, putting his hand to his face. When he opened his eyes again, Chance found that the room had restored itself.

* * *

After showering the next morning, Faith made herself some pomegranate tea and toast. Still in her night shirt, she checked her email. There was an email from Chance asking her if she would be able to meet him around noon the next day.

Faith did have a Sunday shift, but Cat would let her switch. Faith sent a reply and went about her day. She had to work an evening shift, but that left the entire morning and most of the afternoon for her to do whatever she wanted.

She found Ginger Snaps in her organized DVD collection and set about losing herself.

* * *

Chance had collapsed in bed sometime around eight in the morning. He woke up four hours later to find a reply from Faith, to an email that he had never sent.

"_**Sunday sounds nice. I'll bring some tea from work. He just got these awesome white teas in. You'll love them."**_

The magic had sent her an email.

Mortified, Chance threw the laptop against the wall. He tipped the computer chair in his haste to get away from it and, as he passed through the door to the new room, he tore the door off of its hinges. He knew that everything would be fixed in a matter of seconds, but it still gave him tremendous satisfaction to destroy things.

"I don't want to do this to her!" he screamed into the air. "Let her be!"

The house, as always, remained silent.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Faith woke up and showered as usual. She put on mascara and did her hair as usual before going to her closet and starting the terrible contemplations of what to wear. After some consideration, she chose a pair of dark wash jeans and a white blouse that was fitted at the bust and flared slightly away at the waist. Over top she chose her teal hoodie and the heart locket from Pirates of the Caribbean.

In all of her days of owning that necklace, no one had realized that it was from a Disney movie. Most people thought it was a good likeness of Medusa, the gorgon of ancient myth.

Faith put a box of white pear tea in her purse and then slipped on her black uggs. After buttoning up her black wool jacket, pulling the hood of her sweater out from the collar, and cheking for her keys, Faith left her apartment.

* * *

Chance decided that he would not answer the door when she came. If no one answered, Faith would be forced to return home, where she would be safe.

The decision broke his heart, but Chance decided that would be best. So long as Faith never saw his face, she could be free to live her life as she was supposed to. And he... well, Chance would be alone, and he would be a beast forever.

Somehow that seemed to make sense.

* * *

Faith had told the bus driver where she wanted to get off, since she hadn't been to Chance's area of town since she was little. Her mom had taken her to one of the farms for raspberry picking, and all that summer they had had fresh raspberries in the freezer, ready to be thawed and used on everything from ice cream to salad.

That had been a good summer.

"This is it." The bus driver called to her. She was sitting at the front, and by now she was one of three remaining passengers.

"Thanks." She went the door and it opened before her. "How often do you pass by this stop?"

"Every two hours."

"Okay. Thanks."

She got off the bus and started down a long dirt road long since iced over by the constant freeze and thaw that accompanied the beginning of winter. Using the ditches along side as her guide, Faith started the cold walk up to the house that loomed in the distance.

* * *

Chance tried to pretend that he was imagining the knock at his door. But when it came again, he knew that it was Faith, right on time. Terrified, he backed away from the front door and crept down the hall. He leaned against the wall, listening to her knock, desperately wanting to let her in but knowing that he had to keep her out.

But the magic that seemed so intent on destroying him would not give up so easily. It took Chance a moment to realize that the door had opened on its own accord, and by then it was too late. The moment he heard Faith's voice, he was unable to move.

* * *

When the door opened, Faith was surprised to find that there was no one there. There was only a darkened foyer.

"Um... Hello?" she called.

There was no reply. Freezing, Faith moved into the foyer, stamping the snow from her boots and closing the door behind her. Holding the strap of her messenger purse, she squinted into the darkened interior.

"Hi? Chance? Its Faith." She saw a dim living room stretched out in front of her, decorated in a simple, timeless manor. To the left was a hallway. She moved towards it. "You said to meet you on Sunday, so... here I am."

Still no reply.

"Chance?"

As she entered the living room, Chance could see her perfectly. His eyes, encased in two sets of eyelids, were much better than hers. He took in her rosy flesh, her pink lips, and her dark eyes. This was the girl from the photograph, but she was so different in real life.

Suddenly she turned towards him. Chance stopped breathing.

Faith could see the darkened outline of a body. She moved towards it. Still, despite her surroundings, despite everything she had ever been told about internet predators, she felt totally, perfectly safe.

"Chance?" She called towards the shadow. "That you?"

"Stay where you are," came a reply, the voice so rough that it took Faith a moment to realize that there were actually words in it. Faith stopped, but she continued to look towards the shadow.

"That is you, isn't it?" she murmured. She wasn't sure how she felt. "Chance?"

"Yes."

She nodded, as though assuring herself of his identity.

"Please," Chance murmured, softening his voice as much as he could. There was barely a difference. "Stay away from me."

"Why?" Faith asked.

"I don't want you to see..." he swallowed hard, trying to keep the break out of his voice. "What I am."

"And... what are you?" Faith murmured.

He didn't reply, but when Faith took a step towards him he bellowed, "Don't!"

She paused once more. "Are you going to hurt me?" she asked.

"No..." Chance sighed, trying to withdraw into the darkness. "I would never..."

"What is it you're afraid of?" Faith asked. "Do you think if I see you, I'll be disappointed? I already told you, I don't believe you look like your pictures."

"I know that, if you see me, you'll be afraid."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Faith asked.

"Please," Chance whispered. His voice, so strong in volume, was terribly weak. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid." Faith murmured. "Now, I'm going to take my boots off and leave them by the front door. Then, I'm going to come towards you. Okay?"

"No, Faith," he murmured. "I don't want you to hate me..."

"I won't." Faith replied. She slipped off her boots. "I promise, no matter what, I won't hate you."

Chance watched as she came slowly towards him, his emotions a mixture of terror and awe. He took a step back, and she reached out her hand in a motion to stop him. "Please, don't." She breathed. Soon, she would be able to see him. Chance closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the terror in her eyes.

Slowly, he came into focus for her. He seemed to loom above her – a foot taller than Robers had been, for sure, and he had been a head taller than her. His limbs began to take shape, but they were long, thick, and powerful. His chest was huge, and it heaved slowly with each breath. His head hung low, covered in shaggy hair.

Come to think of it... he was totally covered with shaggy hair. And none of his features resembled that of any man she had ever met.

Faith gasped and stepped back. "Oh," she whispered as what she was seeing truly registered in her mind. "Oh, oh!"

Chance turned away at that. So this was it. His one foolish hope, and she was as disgusted by him as any human being would be. He expected her to scream, to run, to curse him for lying to her.

Faith took a deep breath, putting a hand to her mouth. Chipped purple nail polish still clung to her fingertips. Her mind screamed at her to run, fast and far, before the creature before her turned to devour her. It was much worse than any sci-fi movie she had ever seen...

But...

She stepped forward and stretched out one hand until she'd grasped his wrist. At her touch, Chance turned back to watch at her. Her dark eyes stared up at him, not in hatred, but in fearful awe. At his glance she withdrew her hand, stepping back to her original place.

"Sorry," she murmured.

The world wavered before her eyes. Faith put her hand against the wall to steady herself. When she looked back at the creature before her, the world began to spin. The floor swayed at an odd angle, beckoning her towards it.

"Mmm..." she struggled to right herself as she began to fall into blackness. She heard the rough voice call out her name and then there was only sleep.

* * *

**AN:** insert stupid proud of herself grin here...


	8. Chapter 8

**Anne:** This Chapter is Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson. Don't worry, its not as loud and angry as most of his stuff. And his house is like my house, only my house is a little quieter with its insanity. Unfortunately, Chance`s need to protect her might just kill Faith. But anyways... thanks for the review, as always!

**Eight**

_The measure of a mans real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be _found out – T. B. Macaulay

"Faith!" Chance moved to catch her so that she crumpled into his arms, rather than onto the floor. Her head lolled against his arm and he adjusted her so that she fit more comfortably in his arms. She didn't struggle or make a sound. Her breathing was slow and regular, and her eyes remained closed.

She had fainted.

Chance closed his eyes for a moment, holding her gently against him. Cradled in his arms, Faith slept on, unaware when he finally decided to take her to the room that seemed irreversibly hers now. Chance laid her on the bed, placing the pillow beneath her head and arranging her arms so that they lay straight at her sides. After untangling her purse from her limbs, he put it on the floor at the end of the bed.

He looked down at her, unable to force himself to leave. Why didn't she run when she had the chance? Why had she chosen to touch him?

Why didn't she hate him?

Chance reached out and brushed a lock of black hair from her face. When she awoke, she would run. She had to, for her own sake, before the house displaced itself again. He would tell her to go, remove her by force, if he had to.

He didn't want to.

Chance made himself leave the room, closing the door behind him. He went to the living room, afraid that he would wake her if he was near, and found one of the books she had recommended. _The Gargoyle._

He read, looking up every few paragraphs and listening for movement in the new room. Outside the window, a snowstorm began to pick up, unseen, ignored.

* * *

Faith woke slowly. She kept her eyes closed, trying to remember the dream she'd just had. It had seemed so vivid, so real... and there had been a monster.

She'd felt so, so sorry for the monster.

Faith's eyes opened. She was not greeted by the surroundings of her apartment. Instead, she was greeted by her bedroom at her parent's house. Strange, she couldn't remember going for a sleep over... but, then, her mom had been worried about her lately. The sleep over must have been to show her mom that she could survive on her own and an intervention so save her from herself was not necessary. Funny that she was sleeping in her clothes, though...

_Wait_...

She had not gone to her mom's. She had taken a long bus ride to the outskirts of the city, and it hadn't been to see her mom. It had been to meet Chance. She remembered a door opening, and a dark hall, and... and... a creature.

The monster from her dream. It was real.

Faith slid from the bed, looking around. This room was similar to the one at her parent's, but it was cleaner, and bigger. Everything was there like she remembered, but there were more books and DVDs on the shelves, more knick nacks on the desk, a new stack of CDs in the stand. This was a good replica of the room she'd slept in as a child, but it wasn't the same.

Screwing her courage to the sticking place, Faith moved towards the door. She left her purse behind as she opened it and stepped into the darkened hall.

* * *

Chance dropped the book when he heard the door open. He looked up to see Faith standing in the hallway, looking a little scared and confused, but still okay for the most part.

* * *

Faith took a deep breath, finding the house as dark as it had been before. Now she was a little scared, but she was still confident that she would not be harmed. What she felt was the fear of the unknown and unexplained.

She saw movement in the living room and began moving towards it. Something stood, moving away from the furniture.

"Faith, go home." He seemed to growl more than speak. "Leave before its too late."

Faith stepped out of the hall and into the living room. She saw the creature from her dreams, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black button-up shirt. Strange as this looked, it made him a little easier to approach. Faith swallowed her fear and moved closer. She remembered touching his wrist before, and feeling warm flesh beneath coarse fur. She knew that this was not a costume, or a mask, or a joke. Whatever this thing was, he was real...

"Are you Chance?" she whispered.

He stared down at her. She kept moving, stepping towards him, afraid that if she stopped to think she would run away. She regarded the animal features of the face, the tail moving slowly to a rhythm that she could not hear, the sharp teeth protruding from the jaw, the blue eyes, too human for their surroundings, sending shocks through her spine. When she was close enough so that, if she reached out, she could touch the creature, Faith stopped. It did not move to harm her in any way. His too-human eyes regarded her with awe and... sorrow?

"You're are, aren't you?" Faith asked.

"Yes," he replied. He didn't move. He didn't want to frighten her.

"Oh..." She murmured. She hadn`t built up any specific ideas of that Chance looked like, but she most certainly hadn`t expected his.

"Please, you have to go." He murmured, drawing away from her touch. "Before its too late."

Faith didn't respond. She put her arms around herself, cold despite the winter jacket that she was still wearing. How could she have been speaking with someone for so long and never know that he was... this? She refused to take her eyes off him, lest he disappear, a figment of her imagination.

"Please," Chance murmured. "I know what you must be thinking. Send police if you want. Send reporters. I don't care. You just have to leave, and now. For your own sake."

"You aren`t going to hurt me." Faith murmured.

"No."

"Then why should I leave?" she asked.

"I... can't explain." Chance replied. "But if you don't go now... you won't be able to leave later. And you'll hate me when that happens."

"Then why did you want me to come here?" Faith asked. "Did you want me to be stuck here? Did you just change your mind now?"

"No! Of course not."

"Then why am I here?" she prodded, gentle but persistent.

The question caught him off guard. Chance moved to step towards her, saw the startled look in her eyes as he prepared to close off the last few inches between them, and stopped himself. "I just... I wanted... to meet you. To see you. I'd never... cared... about anyone before, but... I cared about... I wanted to see you because you made me..."

He trailed off.

Faith's fingertips went to her lips. She regarded the creature before her. He could destroy her easily. He had claws to tear her to pieces, rock-hard muscles to tear her appart, teeth to crunch up her bones... but in his eyes, she saw none of these things. She saw only an unrelenting sadness.

This creature was desperately alone.

Faith didn't know why she had been the one he found on the internet. She did not believe in coincidences, but she hardly believed in fate. There must be other people out there in the whole wide world that he could have spoken to... must have, if he was online as much as he seemed to be. But she was the one standing before him now. She was the one who had suggested that they meet. So maybe it wasn't fate, or coincidence, but... something in between.

"You must be very lonely," She murmured. Chance lowered his head. He couldn't look at her any more. "You don't have anyone else around?"

"No."

"That's so sad." Faith murmured.

He felt stripped naked, torn open. He could not find the strength to lift his head, to move towards her and frighten her away, to scream at her to leave before she was trapped there with him forever. Didn't she understand? Couldn't she see the danger?

Slowly, Faith closed the last bit of space between them. She reached out as though she were in a dream and, gently, her fingers came to rest on his chest. Chance looked up, startled, and she almost drew away, but his eyes locked with hers and seemed to keep her there. She felt so small in comparison to him, frail and insignificant. Chance was afraid to move, in case he hurt her.

Faith didn't know what she was doing. Assuring herself that he really was there, maybe. Surely that was the case. She felt the cotton of his shirt beneath her fingertips, the stiff muscles beneath the cotton... her mind finally took this for reality. _What are you?_ She wanted to ask, but held her tongue.

Instead, she murmured, "I'm not scared."

Slowly, so he would not frighten her, Chance put his hands on her wrists. Gently, he removed her hands from his chest and held them in his own, her slim fingers hidden inside of his own. This was the girl who had asked him for advice? This was the girl to whom he'd spoken as though he were equal to her? Better than her, in the beginning? He was disgusted with himself. The mere idea that she could tolerate him was utter folly.

"Not yet, at least," he murmured, releasing her from his grip.

Faith sighed. "Do you really want me to go?"

"No..." he breathed, "But... you must."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"I can't... explain." He murmured. "I just... need you to trust me."

"I do trust you." Faith countered. "But I just don't understand all of this. There's a room there... almost exactly like the one I had at my parent's house. But you wouldn't know that, because I never told you what that room looked like. You spoke to me freely on the internet, but now that I'm here to see you you're desperately trying to send me away. Its obvious that you're lonely, but you just keep telling me that something is going to happen, but you can't explain why you know this. I'm beginning to worry-"

"I already told you I'm not going to hurt you-" Chance broke in with a low growl.

"Not about myself." Faith muttered. "I'm worried about you. Are you in some kind of danger? Is something bad going to happen to you?"

The idea of someone else caring about him was so new, Chance could barely process it. "No... I... I'm not."

"Then why do you think I need to leave the house 'before its too late'?"

"Because the house _does things!"_ He shouted, suddenly enraged by her line of questioning. She flinched back, eyes wide, but Chance couldn't stop himself. "If you don't get out of here soon, something will happen and you'll hate me for it, because I brought you here like the fool I am! I thought that..." suddenly he trailed off, gaining control of himself. "That... you might..."

"Might... what?" Faith asked, watching him carefully.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter now." He turned away from her, towards the window. The small storm that had started earlier was turning into a blizzard.

"What... what does the house do?" Faith asked, fear swelling into the pit of her stomach.

Chance sighed, refusing to face her. "Just go, Faith."

"What... about you?" Faith asked. "Shouldn't you leave, too?"

"No. I'm never going to be able to leave." He murmured. He contemplated the weather without really seeing it. "I think... I'm going to die, in this house, alone. And no one will care."

Still frightened from his outburst, Faith closed her eyes. "I'll get my purse, then."

* * *

Chance was sitting at the couch, seemingly engrossed in his book. Only his eyes moved when Faith came back from the room, pulling the strap of her messanger purse into a more comfortable position. Without looking at him she went to the front door and retrieved her uggs, pulling them over her feet. She checked to see that her jacket was buttoned, pulling it straight. She glanced towards the figure on the couch.

She must have been wrong about him. He didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't really care about her, either.

She opened the door and wind blew hard into the house, scattering large snowflakes across the floor. The weather channel had said it would be a warmer day, and Faith wasn't at all prepared for this onslaught. She had no hat, or gloves, or earmuffs... or even a scarf.

She stepped into the whirling snow, pulling the door closed behind her. She tugged the hood of her thin sweater up to cover her head and shoving her already-freezing hands into her pockets, hoping that she hadn't missed the bus. She didn't want to wait outside for two hours in this, especially when there was no shelter to wait in.

* * *

Chance stared at the snow melting on his floor. Faith hadn't been dressed too warmly, he realized. Just her jacket and some boots...

He watched her pull up her hood outside the house and continue out into the snow. How far did she have to walk? Winnipeg winters were miserably cold. That was his main reason for moving to Toronto. If someone wandered out into a storm without proper coverage, even if it was just for a few minutes, they were guaranteed frostbite, if not hypothermia. If she was going to be out there for a long time...

His heart twisted painfully. Chance realized that he might have just sentenced her to death.

* * *

The snow bit like ice against Faith's unprotected face. Her ears screamed in pain as they lost every drop of warmth to the bellowing blizzard. She reached out to pull her hood further down and her hands became ice. Faith began to realize that she might be in danger.

If the bus wasn't there, she decided, she would go back to the house and wait in the doorway. She wouldn't go inside.

Lowering her head as a battering ram against the wing, Faith struggled against it. Her lips cracked from the cold and tears ran from her eyes as the bare flesh of her forehead caught the brunt of the snow. Her legs began to numb slowly, clothed only in the thin fabric of her blue jeans. Her uggs caught glare ice and she fell to the ground, her hands going into the snow to cushion her fall.

This was madness. She couldn't walk to the bus stop. She could walk right onto the road and never know it. At least a foot of snow had accumulated beneath her feet, making it harder to walk. She had to turn back. She would wait in the house until the storm blew over. She could die in this weather if she didn't.

Faith stood slowly and turned back in the direction she had come from... and saw only white. The snow was covering the house, and her footprints.

Terror grasped her, tearing her mind into tiny little pieces. She was going to die. She was going to freeze to death, and no one would know until spring when someone's dog found her and dragged a rotting piece of her home to master.

Faith threw up, her vomit the only mark on the whiteness around her. She stumbled away from it, desperate to find somewhere to go. If she found a snow bank, and hollowed it out like an igloo... maybe she would have a chance. Faith began to search, screaming noiselessly at the snow, tears running down her face and freezing against her skin.

There was nothing but the snow, dancing around her as though to mock her stupidity. She turned around in a circle, her limbs screaming and burning as her body heat was pulled away from them. Faith realized that, if she didn't find something _right now,_she would die. Her mother, her father, her work, her friends... they would all be worried about her as she lay frozen beneath the prarie snow.

The horror of it drew a loud, piercing scream from her lips.

She stumbled randomly, the pain of the cold closing in on her until it was almost impossible to move. Her earrings felt like white-hot knives in her ears, but her fingers were so swollen from the cold that she couldn't cover or remove them without tearing her ear off. Faith fell to her knees, hoping that the hypothermia would make her fall asleep soon so she wouldn't have to feel the cold any more.

A dark shape loomed before her. Faith stared at it, unthinking, unable to move. Tears frozen onto her eyelashes made it impossible to see clearly. Faith closed her eyes, swaying foreward. Hand clamped down on her shoulders, pulling her to her feet.

"I've got you."

Chance's voice came to her through the snow, otherworldly, pulling Faith from her trance. She was lifted, cradled. Her cheek came to rest against something warm and she turned to bury herself in it. Her fingers, twisted and cramped into claws, scrabbled against cloth, seeking an exit from the cold.

"Its okay. I'm taking you inside. You're going to be okay."

Faith let herself go limp, her eyes closed. She was too cold to be afraid anymore.

* * *

**AN:** FYI, as a perpetually cold girl living in Winnipeg, this happens. This was Wednesday, actually. Only I had a scarf and mitts and I got to the bus stop.


	9. Chapter 9

**Anne: **Don't worry, you're not a stalker. Stalkers sit next to you on the bus and grab your boob when you've told him you don't want a relationship, thank you very much. The Kill the Beast lyric is actually a line from Macbeth, one of my favorite plays, so I couldn`t resist adding it in. I hope you aren`t disappointed with their relationship as it grows! This chapter`s song is Afterward by Mute Math.

**Nine**

_Time flies, death urges, knells call, Heaven invites, Hell threatens_ – Edward Young

Faith came back to reality when the blaze in her hand made her scream aloud. She pulled away from Chance, who was by her side and gently rubbing her hand with both of his own.

"I know, it burns." He growled softly, "But it'll get the circulation back faster."

Faith was sitting on the couch in his living room, armrest to her back, her legs sticking out in front of her. She was covered with a blanked and her feet stuck out from beneath it, still in their boots. Chance was kneeling beside her, his clawed fingers splayed in a sign of truce. He moved to take her hand again, his eyes asking for consent.

"Mmm." Faith replied, biting her lip.

She let him take her hand and tried to endure the fire in her fingers. Tears squeezed from her eyes, running down her wind-burnt cheeks. She could feel similar burning all over her body, but Chance's warm touch made it a thousand times worse, the course fur that covered his hands agitating the chapped flesh. He worked in silence, stopping only when she could bear it no longer and a sob would escape her lips.

"I'm sorry." Chance murmured, switching to her other hand. "I shouldn't have made you leave in this weather. I was an asshole."

Faith said nothing. When she was sure he was finished with her other hand, she raised it to look at the red, chapped skin. It still hurt, but not as badly. She felt her split lips and burning cheeks, stopping at her ears. They burned at her touch, but she could feel everything. She wasn't going to loose any limbs for her misadventure.

"Ow," she hissed.

"I'm sorry." Chance said again.

"I know." Faith replied, her voice clipped. "Still hurts."

"I know."

Faith glanced at him. His head was lowered, his eyes on his task. "Why did you come after me?" she demanded.

He paused. "Would you rather be frozen alive out there?"

"No."

"Then why does it matter?"

"Because." She muttered, pulling her hand away from him. Chance raised his head so that his eyes met hers. She didn't blink. He sighed, reaching for her hand again. She pulled away once more, muttering, "You aren't touching me until you answer."

"Because I care about you. Now give me your fucking hand." He snapped.

"Fine." Faith muttered, relinquishing the limb in question.

"How are your feet?" Chance asked, changing his tone.

"Fine."

"Can you move your toes?"

She did so. "Yes."

"Okay." He went back to his silent contemplation of her cold hands.

"So..." Faith cleared her throat. "How did you know you would find me?"

"I didn't." He replied.

She shivered, but not from the cold. "How did you know that you'd be able to find your way back afterwards?"

Again, he replied, "I didn't."

"Then you must have been just as scared as I was." Faith murmured. "I mean, it was so cold, and with the snow it was impossible to see where you were going."

"I have a good sense of direction." He replied without looking at her.

"Still," she replied, "In weather like that, its easy to get lost. And no one would find you until the snow melted."

"I was... too worried to be scared." Chance murmured, clearing his throat. He didn't mention that, after finding her, he had been lost for about thirty seconds, panic stricken, before he finally found the house.

"Well... thank you." Faith said. "If you hadn't come after me... I'd be dead now."

"I'm not so sure you should be thanking me." He replied. "I'm the one who sent you out there, remember? If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't have been outside."

"... I think my hand is okay," Faith muttered, changing the subject. Chance released her and got to his feet, moving to leave the room. "I... um... did you want some tea?"

He stopped. "Tea?"

"Yes, I brought some from work. Its in my purse."

"Oh." Chance realized that she was trying to ask for something warm as politely as possible, without demanding it. "Sure." He brought the purse from where he had dropped it at the front door, holding it out to her. Faith retrieved a small plain box with her aching fingers and handed a tea bag to her strange companion, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Its... white kiwi tea." She offered.

"Sounds good."

* * *

Chance went to the kitchen, holding the little tea bag awkwardly. He`d never tasted the stuff, even when he was human. He`d always drunk coffee, black. Lattes and tea and other frilly drinks were for girls. Flavored tea even more so.

He`d once dated an English model. She`d had tea with every single meal, and she used to offer him cups of the putrid stuff every single time. Every once and a while he'd accept and poor the sickly stuff down the drain when she wasn't looking. She used to carry loose leaves in her purse and... boil them? Chance wasn't positive. He hadn't exactly dated her for her culinary expertise.

She'd left a teapot behind. After a brief search he found it and dropped the little bag into it. The kettle was a little more difficult. He didn't know why he had one, but he knew that it was somewhere under the stove.

* * *

Faith listened to Chance rattle around in the kitchen. When she was sure that he wasn't coming back for some time, she took off her boots and socks, inspecting her poor red feet. She drew them under the blanket and went through her purse, looking for her little mirror. She didn't usually care about her looks, but she was curious to see what the cold had done to her.

One glance at her swollen red face was enough. She threw the mirror into her purse and dropped it on the ground, next to a discarded novel.

_The Gargoyle._ She lifted it, opening to a random page. She'd read three times since it was finally available in bookstores earlier that year, but it was still stimulating... and it made her forget about how cold she was.

She was still reading when Chance came back about ten minutes later, a large mug in his equally large hands. He was silent, unwilling to disturb her, but Faith smelled the sweet tea and looked up.

"Oh, sorry." She closed the book and put it back on the ground. "That's my favorite book."

"I'm about halfway through." Chance replied, offering the tea. She took it in eager hands, thanking him. "I... think I made it wrong."

Faith looked into the light golden liquid. "Um... it's impossible to make tea wrong." When she glance back up at him she was smiling. Her voice had not been unkind. "It can be strong, or weak, but you can't make it so it's not tea."

"But... tea is supposed to be dark brown." Chance said. "All the tea I've ever seen is dark."

"Oh. That's _black_ tea, silly." Faith laughed. "Black tea is dark brown. Green tea is lighter brown, somewhat greenish. Herbal tea is usually bright red or pink, and white tea, like this, is light yellow."

"... Oh." Chance replied, feeling like an idiot.

Faith took a long sip of the hot liquid, sighing afterwards. "Perfect."

"... What's the difference?" Chance asked.

"What, between the teas? Black tea is just a drink. You may as well be drinking coffee if you`re drinking that. Herbal, Green and White tea usually have some sort of health benefits. She took another sip. "Green tea is the best for you. It speeds up metabolism and it filters toxins out."

"Oh," Chance said. To make conversation he added, "I like coffee."

"Most men do." Faith replied.

Chance wondered how they could be having a perfectly candid conversation about hot beverages when he had almost killed her. He had imagined her reaction to seeing his ugly mug again upon waking up and so far nothing was going as he had thought it would. She was supposed to be afraid of him. She was supposed to hate him. Why was she just sitting there, talking about tea?

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked.

Faith paused, stalling for time. She adjusted her fingers on the sides of the cup, making them symmetrical. "I thought we were talking about tea."

"How can you come into a dark house, meet a terrible monster, nearly freeze to death in a blizzard and still be concerned about what tea's the best?" Chance asked, bewildered. He let himself sit at the end of the couch where her feet had rested earlier, his feet moving her discarded boots aside. Faith noticed claws exending from his toes and nearly touching from the floor. "How can you just act like this is all... normal?"

"Well... you said you wouldn`t hurt me." She replied.

"And you believe that, coming from something like me?" Chance asked.

"Well... if you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it already." Faith murmured. She studied his animal features, finding them a little less strange than before. "You saved my life, too. That makes it a little hard for me to think you're going to hurt me."

"So, my being a monster doesn`t matter?" he insisted.

"Well, I'm trying to be polite and overlook that." Faith mumbled.

"You shouldn't be trying to overlook it!" Chance bellowed. Faith glanced at him, unafraid and unamused by his outburst and he calmed down, running his clawed hand over his face. "Sorry."

"Did you want me to be afraid of you?" Faith asked.

The question made him feel like an idiot. "No. Of course not. But you're..."

"I don't really see what being afraid is supposed to get me." Faith tried to explain. "When things are hopeless... like when I was outside... then I'll be afraid. But you aren't going to hurt me and you seem to care about my well being, so... what's to be afraid of?"

"Everything." Chance muttered. He stared at the book on the ground, unwilling to meet her eyes.

"... Are you... pouting?" Faith asked, a smile seeping into her voice.

"No. I just don't understand it." He muttered.

Faith smiled down at her tea. She must be going crazy, but at least it was a nice ride. She reached foreward and took one of his beastly hands into her own. He looked at her accusingly, but said nothing. "You can't understand everything. Sometimes you just have to take things at face value without trying to explain everything to yourself."

He said nothing. Faith released his hand and went back to her tea.

"You should have some of this." She offered. "Might put you in a better mood."

"I'm fine with my mood right now."

"Whatever you say." She replied.

They sat in silence. After a minute, Chance left the room and came back with a huge cup of tea. He sat down and gave Faith a look that said that she could keep all of her comments to herself. Then, he took a sip. "There. Happy?"

"Extremely," she replied, trying not to laugh.

* * *

The storm was still raging by the time night fell. Chance was standing off to the side of the livingroom, watching Faith. She was still laying on the couch, fast asleep. _The Gargoyle _was open on her lap. Chance didn't want to wake her, but he knew she should be in bed.

Quietly, he went to her and pulled back the blanket. He lifted her gently, listening for any changes in breathing that would alert him to her waking, and took her to her room. He laid her on the bed for the second time, this time taking the time to remove her winter jacket and cover her with the blankets. He glanced at her face, relieved to find that the worst of her windburn was gone. Redness remained on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose, a blush on her pale skin.

Chance wondered if she had been speaking truthfully about her lack of fear. He had often heard people claim that animals could smell fear, but he wasn't able to scent any emotions coming from her. His mind basted in his thoughts until Chance forced himself to leavethe room. Why was he being so obsessiveve?

* * *

In the middle of the night, Faith woke up with tears running down her face.

Since her mother's diagnosis with breast cancer, Faith had had recurring dreams in which her mother was dead. Sometimes she would be at the hospital, sometimes she would be at her funeral, but most of the time she would go into her mother's room herself and find her lifelessly sprawled across the bed.

Faith knew when she woke up that her mom was okay, but that didn`t make the dreams less scary. Sitting up in the bed, Faith cried silently, an art she had long since mastered. Her mother didn`t like to hear her cry, knowing that she was the source of the tears, and so Faith had found a way to swallow the sobs. She would breath in quickly and close her eyes, the sob expanding in her chest until it finally ended.

To comfort herself, Faith hugged her pillow, waiting for the aching sadness in her chest to melt away. Eventually it did, as it always had in the past, and Faith was able to get back to sleep, stears still wet on her cheeks.

* * *

From his own room, Chance had heard Faith sit up in bed. He hadn't fallen asleep yet. He couldn't, knowing how close she was to him.

He couldn't hear her, but somehow he knew that she was crying. He didn't know the source of her tears and wished he could comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to invade her privacy. He listened until she finally laid back down, feeling helpless.

If he had been handsome, he could have gone in and comforted her. She would have fallen asleep in his arms with his heartbeat as her lullaby. He could have felt her against him, the curve of her breast under his arms, her soft flesh beneath his own. As a beast, he could only sit and listen to her pain.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry it took me a bit. Life has turned crazy lately...


	10. Chapter 10

**ANNE:**This chapter's song is Smile Like You Mean It, the Killers. I think Afterward is available on the internet, but I down loaded it off of Limewire. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. this one doesn't get too far (I have no life right now. Four essays due in two weeks... WTF, U of M!), but I did like writting it.

**Ten**

_Be kind. We all struggle with something_ – Anonymous

Faith awoke slowly from a dream of cold whiteness. She drifted in and out of sleep, remembering things in bits and pieces. By the time she was fully awake she had remembered the events of the previous day and was well prepared for whatever lay before her. It was still early, as Faith was used to waking at six in the morning for school.

She got out of bed, feeling strange in her jeans and sweater. Her eyes wandered around the room, oddly familiar and yet so utterly strange to her after waking up every morning in her cozy little apartment.

Faith finally looked to the wardrobe. She approached it carefully, pulling open the door without really knowing what to expect. For some reason, the clothes being there surprised her (though clothes being in a wardrobe seemed perfectly normal when she thought of it later on that night), but the real shock was that every single thing was in her size, and every single thing was at least a variant of what she'd had in her closet back home. Blue jeans, tank tops, t-shirts, hoodies, and a few pairs of PJ's. Some of the colours were a little off, but she had definitely owned each item previously.

Her first instinct was to reach for a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but she felt weird about putting on fresh clothes before having a shower. Faith was a creature of habit, and not showering first thing made her feel a little bit like the world was falling apart.

She selected fresh clothes (after searching through the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe she found some fresh undies and a bra as well – it would have seemed creepy had she not already made a huge allowance for strange events in the back of her mind) and was about to go out into the hallway when she found a door in her room that hadn't been there before.

That was strange.

But then, when she thought about it, the last twenty four hours had been strange, and stressing herself out about the appearance of a door after having tea with a furry animal-esque creature straight from a Stephen King novel seemed a little bit silly.

Intrigued, Faith opened the door and found a beautiful girly-girl bathroom, the likes of which she had only ever seen in movies. There was a huge tub that resembed a small pool more than a bathtub, a separate shower which could easily fit three people, a sink stocked with all sorts of lotions and perfumes, and an expensive looking if rather run-of-the-mill toilet. Purple towels and matching washcloths were already set up where she would have easy access to them, and everything was sparkling clean, as though she`d only just missed the cleaning crew.

Faith walked in and put her clean clothes on the sink. She looked into the mirror there, happy to see that her trip into the snow had only left a blush on her cheeks.

_Well,_ she thought,_ might as well use it. Everything looks like its meant for me, anyways._ Still, she felt like an intruder as she pulled off her used clothes and let them fall in a heap on the floor. She filled the tub, added a little bubble bath, and got in, moaning softly in spite of herself as the warm water embraced her.

Outside the storm still raged as though angry to be cheated of its victim, but Faith paid it no mind. She had too much to think about as it was.

* * *

Chance awoke in a panic, though he couldn`t say why. He rose from his bed and left his room, leaving the door wide open behind him. Faith was the only thing in thr house that he cared about, he reasoned, so _she_ must be what he was so worried about. He got up. Maybe she was sick from being outside, or maybe she was afraid after waking up in a strange place. Maybe she`d had a nightmare...

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His fur was mussed, standing up at attention. He was wearing a pair of old sweats. He looked like a moronic werewolf from a bad movie. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Chance actually began to worry about how he was dressing... especially since he had company.

For a moment, he contemplated the idea of getting cleaned up before going to see her. She`d been able to treat him like a halfway normal person earlier, but at least he`d been wearing a shirt. She might not be so receptive if he came at her topless.

But, he began to ponder, animals did not wear clothes. Technically, as far as appearances went, he was an animal. And it wasn`t as though he had to cover himself for modest purposes. He had no penis, and thus, he had nothing to hide. Maybe it was weird that he was wearing clothes. Maybe he should go without...

Honestly, the idea of going around naked while Faith was around unnerved him.

To dress or not to dress. He might have agonized for another hour or so if another dose of wild, irrational panic hadn't chosen that very moment to course through his veins, grabbing at his stomach along the way. Dressed as he was, Chance moved quickly out of his room, down the hall to Faith's door.

He knocked.

No answer.

He opened the door a crack. "Faith?"

No answer.

He burst into the room, pulling the door halfway off of its hinges, and found the bed empty.

Terrible, confusing thoughts crowded through his tired mind. Had she run away, back into the snow that had almost killed her? Her jacket had been left behind, and he couldn't imagine her going without it after what she'd been through. Had the house displaced? Perhaps. Was he the only living thing capable of being transported because of the curse? Had she been left for dead out in the storm? Had the magic, deciding to screw with him for its own amusement, sent Faith back home?

"Faith!" Chance called, his voice loud and urgent as he re-entered the hall.

He heard her voice, but not in a reply to his own. Relief washed over him, stronger than anything he had ever felt before. He followed it to the kitchen, where he could smell pancakes...

"_Looking back at sunsets on the Eastside, we lost track of the time. Dreams aren't what they used to be... some things sat by so carelessly.__"_

He found her in front of the stove, spatula in hand. She had the cord from her earbuds strung across her back so it wouldn't get in her way, her purple iPod half sticking out of her back pocket. Faith sang alone quietly, unaware of his presence. Her voice wasn't very good, but she sang with passion and, after the fear he'd felt, Chance thought it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

"_Smile like you mean it... smile like you mean it...__"_

Happy to have found her, Chance stood at the door, unwilling to intrude but equally unwilling to let her out of his sight. He was content just to watch her as she fiddled with the pancakes, flipping them and then transferring them to the plate at her side. She poured in more batter from the bowl sitting to the edge of the stove top and repeated the process. She did everything with smooth, graceful movements, dancing as she completed her task. After a few moments she glanced over her shoulder and, catching a glimpse of him, cried out and nearly tipped the plate and its warm contents onto the floor.

The yell was more from suprise than fear, but it still made Chance feel like shit. Faith realized this and quickly tried to right her faux-pas.

"Sorry. I thought you were still asleep," Faith called, her voice unnaturally loud. She yanked the earbuds from her ears, wrapped them quickly around the screen of the iPod, turned it off and put it back in her pocket. She repeated the apology. "Sorry. Was I being loud?"

"No..." he felt a warm blush beneath his fur, strangely shy in front of her. Suddenly he remembered how he looked. It didn't matter that she had passed her cry off as one of suprise, and it didn't matter that she had assured him that she wasn't afraid. "I was just... uh... wondering where you were."

"Oh. I woke up a little while ago. I'm used to getting up early."

"Oh."

Chance tried to maintain eye contact but felt like he was staring her down. Why did he suddenly feel so uncomfortable around her? He didn't look it any more, but he had been one of the most handsome men in the modeling business. He'd slept with gorgeous women from all over the world. Why couldn't he at least be confident around her?

They stood, staring at one another awkwardly. Faith smiled faintly, reintroducing herself to his strange face. It was a little easier to look at him now and not think that she'd stumbled into Narnia or something. He seemed a little softer, a little more approachable in the morning light. "So... um... want some pancakes?"

"Mmm?" Chance looked away from her.

"I made lots." Faith went on, gesturing to the plate. "At first I thought.. well... I don`t know. It was... weird. Kind of magical."

There. She`d said it. Chance flinched at her word choice. "What?"

"Well... I hope you don't mind, but I was kind of hungry and I opened the fridge to see what you had as far as ingredients, because I was thinking of making pancakes or something. At first in was empty aside from condiments and some skim milk. So I closed it and thought for a second about what I could make with that."

She shrugged, moving to divvy up the pancakes. She took two. She gave him ten, which seemed thoughtful to Chance since he'd totally given up on portion control since he'd has his little "incident" with the beautiful/ugly chick. He'd also given up vitamins, vegetables, organic food... pretty much everything that could even vaguely be labeled healthy. The fact that Faith had found skim milk in the fridge seemed to be a miracle.

"Obviously, nothing came to mind. Then I just decided to have a glass of milk and wait for you to wake up. So I go to open the fridge and it was just... full. Eggs, veggies, butter, cream cheese... stuff you usually see in the fridge. But in the front of it was a bowl of batter. And I tasted it and, voila, pancake batter."

Faith moved to hand Chance his plate and he stared down at her, amazed and just a little envious that the magic worked so well for her. It kept the fridge stocked for him, but never with what he wanted. It threw in a veggie every now and then, but usually there was lots of meat (liver, by the taste of it, but every once and a while he got something else. He wasn't picky anymore). The last time he asked for something specific it had been turkey dinner for thanksgiving, since he really, _really_wanted stuffing and mashed potatoes and everything else that came with being a human being on that holiday. He'd found a freshly decapitated bird leaking on his carpet the next morning. He'd gotten the message.

"Um... do you not like pancakes?" She asked when he ignored the plate for a full minute.

"Oh... uh, no. I mean, yes, I do like pancakes." He took the plate, feeling, once again, like a moron. It was getting to be a familiar feeling.

"Okay. I set the table with syrup and whatnot."

Chance stood awkwardly, watching as she took the dishes she had used and put them in the sink. She put in the plug and filled the sink with hot water, adding a little dish soap. He moved towards the table and was about to sit down and eat (he didn`t know what else he was supposed to do at that point), when he realized that she wasn't just soaking the dishes. She was starting them. She was in his house, making him breakfast, and now she was doing dishes like a thirties housewife while he just sat there like an ungrateful bastard. And her pancakes were getting cold.

"Uh – leave those." he muttered gruffly, wishing that he could stop looking like such an ass in front of her.

Faith turned and glanced at him over her shoulder. She was trying to match him up with the mental image she had of her internet buddy. She'd almost gotten over the fact that he was... well... what he was. She'd never been much for biology, but she assumed that, while very uncommon, things like this happened. What with people being able to clone and mess with genes now, she could create whatever story she liked in the back of her mind.

But the house, randomly doing things like adding rooms and refilling fridges, made her feel a little strange. She'd described the events of that morning as just a little odd, but in reality she felt like she should be careful with whatever was happening in this house. It could be a clean bathroom today, but next time it could be something worse. So, doing the dishes, for her, was a way to appease whatever the hell it was that controlled the house - magic, some sort of weird serving staff, whatever.

"I'll do them." Chance growled softly. "Sit down. Eat."

"... is that an order?" Faith asked, trying to joke lightly.

Chance looked away from her. "No. Sorry. Do what you want." he dropped his plate on the table with a clatter.

Faith went from feeling somewhat at peace with their relationship to feeling like a total bitch. "No, I was just... um..." she turned off the water and left the dishes, walking towards him. She was almost close enough to touch him when he turned to leave the kitchen. That's when Faith reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Come on, I was just joking. Don't go."

Chance wrenched himself from her grasp. "Don't."

"Oh, god..." Faith sighed, stepping back. She couldn't contain her next words. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing." he brushed past her, going out the way he came. "Sorry."

"Can't you just...? Fuck, Chance!" she muttered, her feelings getting the better of her. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Chance paused. He wouldn't turn to face her, but he was listening.

"You were obsessed with me being afraid of you yesterday. I can kind of understand that, what with your temper and... how you look. But I'm not afraid!" She pounded the air with her fists, frustrated. "In my mind, that should be enough for you. I'm trying to treat you like I would any of my other friends, but you're getting your knickers in a knot over that, too. You take everything so damn seriously... what the hell do you want from me? I'm not afraid and I'm not allowed to be nice to you so what do you want?"

With a sigh, Chance ran his hand along his neck, soothing muscles made tense from his interactions with her. How could he explain himself? How could he explain how he felt? Slowly, he turned back to look at her. She looked unreal to him, dressed in skinny jeans and loose tunic-style top. She looked too young to be in University, too young to know anything about anything... too young to understand.

"Can you just say something?" She asked, crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest.

"I just... don't know how to act around you." Chance murmured, trying to imagine himself from her point of view. What could she possibly see when she looked at him? Just a big, stupid idiot. That's all he could see.

After a short pause, Faith cleared her throat. "Then don't act. Just be yourself."

"Easy advice to give." Chance replied. "You can be yourself because you're... you. I'm a monster."

"Oh, enough of this monster shit!" Faith groaned, back to her argument. "Who do you think you are? Dracula? Have you sucked blood recently?"

Chance inevitably thought of the headless turkey. "... no..."

"A monster kills people. A monster is evil. A monster is Charles Manson or Sweeney Todd or something like that."

Chance began to leave the room. Faith had been trying to keep somewhat normal, but she lost it just then. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the conversation. "Fine, if you want me to say it, I will. You are scary to look at when someone sees you for the first time. You do look like something out of a horror movie." she grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. She'd never been so angry with someone, never been so forcefully. "Chance, look at me when I talk to you! If you look away from me one more time I swear to god I will punch you in the face."

Chance stared down at her, amazed that he was being manhandled into an arguement. Back when he was attractive, he would have laughed it off, called it foreplay. An hour later he would have been in bed with her. But now... he didn't know what he was supposed to think. He thought of fighting back, but he could kill her if he wasn't careful.

Slowly, Chance began to realized that he... he liked her being so near to him. He wanted it. Something in her eyes made him want her to continue to yell at him, to keep on being angry if that was what it took for her to touch him like this.

Faith realized what she was doing and pulled back. Suddenly embarrassed, she left his personal space. "Sorry." she murmured. "It just pisses me off that you're so intent on doing this."

"... doing what?"

"Selling yourself like some sort of horrible thing." Faith muttered.

"Have you looked at me lately?" Chance asked.

"Yes. I have. But looks are different from what's on the inside. I mean... on MSN you were confident and nice and awesome. Now you're a whiney emo kid." Faith muttered. She picked up her plate and doused the cooled pancakes with syrup. "Now, I'm going to the living room because the kitchen is full of misery now. I found _The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen _and I'm hellbent on watching it and a number of other DVDs until the snow stops and I can consider going outside. If you're willing to leave your bad attitude in the kitchen, you can join me."

Vaguely amazed by her, Chance asked, "Is... that an order...?"

"Yes. Now come on, I want to see Sean Connery."

Chance picked up his plate of pancakes and followed Faith to the living room, feeling significantly more positive about his situation.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry about the long wait. I'm having some trouble with my lifestyle lately, but I only have two more essays due and then I'm on reading week, so starting February 16 expect a few more chapters from me!

Lyrcs are from Smile Like you Mean it, by the Killers


	11. Chapter 11

**ANNE:** Thankies. It is an excellent movie. This song is Trouble by Coldplay. Sorry if I seem a little stiff in answering you, but my AN at the bottom will explain.

**GEORGIA:** Thanks so much for pointing that out. It helps me keep my writting halfway decent :)

**Eleven**

_You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way – _E.L. Doctorow

Chance tried to pay attention to the movie, but every few moments his gaze would shift over to Faith. He watched her eat her pancakes and then set the plate aside. He scarfed his own down and, while she did glance over one or twice to see why he was making so much noise, she basically ignored his messy eating.

He watched her, ignoring the flickering faces on the screen, his eyes taking in the curve of her neck and the soft swell of her breasts beneath her shirt. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks... they were all there for him to drink in, to enjoy. He couldn't touch them, but he could imagine...

She glanced at him again and his eyes imediately went to the TV screen, deflecting any questions she might have about his creepiness. Faith looked back at the movie again, shrugging her shoulders and pulling her legs up so that she was sitting crosslegged on the couch. It was a comfortable, safe pose. She sat loosely, her hands resting on her knees. Her fingers moved on their own accord, tapping out a soft rhythem.

Chance decided that watching Faith watch TV was awesome.

"Would you mind... stopping that?" She asked, catching his eyes before they could make it back to the screen. Her head was tilted slightly downward so that her eyes were gazing up from beneath her heavy bangs.

"What?" Chance asked, trying to be cool. His voice was gruffer than usual and he forced himself to clear his throat. He told himself that she hadn't seen him staring at her like a prepubescent boy... and failed.

"That thing where you glance at the screen for two seconds and then stare at me." She replied. Her fingers tapped on her knees, agitated. She was amazed at how she was getting used to his voice's unusual timbre, and looking at him was almost like looking at a normal person.

Almost.

"... I wasn't doing that." Chance replied. An awkward almost-panic crashed down on his head.

"Mmm." She replied. "At least keep it to a minimum."

Chagrined, Chance tried to concentrate on the movie, but he had already missed most of it and it wasn't enough to keep his attention. His eyes wandered back to Faith and he wondered what she was thinking. Her skin was intoxicating, and he just couldn't stop himself from staring at her pink lips.

"Seriously," she warned, flicking her eyes in his direction so he knew that she meant buisness.

"Sorry." Chance nearly leapt off of the couch.

* * *

He couldn't be near her and not stare, so he moved hastily, gathering up the dishes they had used. Faith gave him a look that was half annoyed and half amused while he went into the kitchen, burning with embarrasment.

Chance plopped the dishes into the lukewarm water that Faith had already run. He didn't bother with fresh water and started scrubbing them mercilessly with the dishrag, wondering why he couldn't just watch the movie like a normal person... _not that I am a normal person..._

It had been a while since he'd washed the dishes himself, and he found the chore a little relaxing, though the soapy water that slicked down the fur on his hands and forearms was a pain in the ass. While Chance went through the motions, he thought about his guest. What, exactly, was he supposed to do with her?

_Ouch..._ he pulled his hands out of the water in response to a sharp pain and found a deep gash on his left palm. He hadn't been paying attention and his hands had slipped while he was washing a knife.

Unfazed by the blood that was dripping freely from his wound, Chance set about cleaning the wound.

* * *

In the other room, Faith lost interest in the movie. She glanced out the window, watching the snow. Was it just her imagination, or was the storm looking a little less dangerous now? Maybe the storm would let up in time for her to get to class tomorrow. Missing school wasn't exactly a habit for her. Her profs would understand her not making it in stormy conditions, but she still didn't like the idea of missing more than a day or two.

Slowly, Faith's mind slipped away from school and began to settle on her host. He had definately been staring at her, no matter what he said. She wasn't too bothered by it (she couldn't imagine him having too many visitors), but the staring made her feel a bit odd none the less. Especially since she was doing her best not to stare at him...

Faith allowed herself to wonder what sort of sci-fi deal she'd fallen into here. The house randomly made things appear and dissapear and its owner was... what? A monster? No, that was too harsh. Animal didn't cover it, either, and creature had too much of a lagoon-y feel to it. Maybe... beast? Yes, beast. That felt right. Human, and yet somehow... otherworldly.

So, Chance was a beast. Obviously, as such, he didn't get out much or have too many people coming to his place, which explained the staring and whatnot. His activity on the internet was probably the only way he had ever been able to get out and communicate with others of the same mental capacity.

And, of course, she'd just happened to come along and fall ass backwards into his weird little world where pancake batter magically appears when you want it. Her mother would love a place like that...

_Mom._ Faith realized that no one knew where she was and she hadn't exactly been monitering her cell phone for calls. People were probably worried... mainly, her mother. She needed to get the the phone and return any calls that she'd missed. She'd say... well, something comforting. That she was staying at a friend's house until it was safe to be on the roads. She wouldn't mention that her friend just happened to be a slightly unstable beast-man whom she'd met in an online chatroom.

Her decision made, Faith started towards her room. She happened to glance in the kitchen as she passed by and saw Chance wrapping a bloody dishtowel around his hand.

"Hey, are you... okay?" Cell phone forgotten, Faith went to help.

"Mmm. Its nothing," Chance growled, trying to hide his wound. Unfortunately, the blood trail on the counter belittled his attempt.

"It certainly looks like something. Here, let me help."

"No, I, it's just..."

Faith ignored his insistance that it was alright and held out her hand. "Come on. I hurt myself a lot. I am an expert on taking care of accidents."

Bewildered by her conscern, Chance held his hand out awkwardly. Beneath his sightline, Faith took it into her own two hands, moving the dishtowel aside. She was confronted with a gash that went from the pad of flesh at the base of his thumb to the other side of his palm. Blood drooled lazily from the wound, catching in the thick hair around the edges and painting the tips of her fingers red. The fur on his hands felt wet and strange under her fingertips, which she tried not to notice.

"Oh, that's nasty." she folded the cloth into a compress and then pressed down on the wound to stop the bleeding. "Do you have some disinfectant and heavy duty bandaids?"

Chance stared down at her, speechless. He hadn't held hands with anyone since his last girlfriend, and that distant memory didn't seem half so intimite as this. Faith's fingers almost intertwined with his own while both her palms pressed on either side of his. She looked up into his eyes, waiting for a response.

"Um, I... don't... yes." he mumbled, wishing that his hands weren't so disgustingly large and hairy compared to hers.

"Good. Where?"

Chance found himself leading Faith to his bathroom. He thanked whatever sadistic powers that ran his house for making it clean. Faith found some gauze, absorbent cotten pads, and an antiseptic cream, all while holding his hand tightly. .

The gash felt sensitive and painful when she gently removed the blood-soaked towel, but the bleeding had slowed a bit. Faith dried off his hand to the best of her ability while he sat meekly, watching as she applied the slimy antiseptic cream. He made himself useful by holding the cotton pad down on the cut while she unraveled some gauze. She wound it around his hand gently, keeping it as tight as possible while taking notice of his discomfort.

"I cut myself at work all the time," she murmured to fill the awkward silence. "We get the cups and lids in these big cardboard boxes and they're taped up to hell, so I usually get out the box cutters and get distracted halfway through. My supervisor told everyone else to take the boxcutters away from me next time because I'm a hazard to myself."

"I see," Chance replied to make conversation.

"Well, I think you're okay now."

She released his hand. It tingled, half from pain, and half from something else. Chance looked down at her and noted that her hands were smeared with his blood. She wiped them off quickly, without making a big fuss.

"Well, I'm just going to check something..." Chance cradled his hurt hand closer to his chest, moving aside so Faith could leave the room first. She went to her room,

Chance wandered to his own room. He sat heavily on the bed, still favoring his hurt hand, and noted that Faith hadn't even faltered when faced by his hand or the blood.

* * *

Faith went to her room and fished her cellphone out of her purse. She opened it to check for messages and saw that there was no signal here.

_Great._ No one could reach her, even if they wanted to. Well, the internet was always a fall back. She could ask Chance to use his computer so she could email everyone important that she was okay.

Faith turned to put her purse on her bed when she saw an open laptop on her desk, the blue light of its screen beckoning to her.

_Okay, this house is really starting to creep me out._

Faith went to the laptop and found that it was identical to the one she had back in her appartment. Weird, but acceptable with all the other stuff that had been happening lately. She logged on, opened her hotmail account and let her family and a few close friends know that she was safe.

When she was done, Faith went back to the livingroom. Chance wasn't there. Strangely, she was dissapointed by that. She replaced _The Leage of Extrordinary Gentlemen_ with _Interview With a Vampire_. Outside, the storm slowly ground to a halt.

* * *

Chance didn't know that he had fallen asleep until he woke up. The noise that had inturrupted his sleep repeated itself, a short series of knocks on his door. Chance sat up, wincing as his hurt hand pressed down on the bedspread.

"Hmmm?" He growled, though he knew who was on the other side.

"Its me," Faith replied, her voice muffled through the door. "I thought you might be... uh... hungry. And I've been kind of lonely. You've been in hiding for the last seven hours..."

Chance got up and checked himself in the mirror. He was in the same state as he had been earlier that morning: no shirt, fur sticking up at all angles...

He answered the door. Faith stood there with a plate heaped with two sandwiches, french fries, and what looked suspiciosly like a salad.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize..." she murmured, backing away.

"Its fine," Chance replied.

"... How's your hand?" she asked, offering the plate.

He took it numbly. "Fine."

"The... um... snow stopped." she said after a long pause.

"Oh." Chance's heart dropped. This was it, then. She was leaving.

"Yup. I was thinking that a walk or something might be nice." she replied tentitively. Chance moved back from the door so that she could enter if she wanted, but she stood in her place.

"Oh."

"I thought... maybe you would want to come... for the walk." Faith hinted.

Chance was confused for a moment. "You want me to... come with you?"

"Well, yes. If you want to."

"You aren't just going to go home?"

"Well, eventually I am, but for now I just wanted to go for a walk and re-aquant myself with the evils of winter. Unless..." Faith paused and met his eyes. He contact sent a small shock down Chance's spine. "Did you want me to get out of your hair?"

"No! Of course not. I... just... thought..." he couldn't say it, but the words were clear enough in his mind: he thought that she would want to be rid of him as soon as possible.

"Well... I'm ready whenever you are." Faith started away from the door. "I'll grab my coat."

Chance scarfed down the meal quickly, leaving the lonely little salad untouched. He wondered honetly how much time he had until Faith left him.

* * *

"You're not wearing a coat or anything?" Faith asked when Chance met her at the front door. He was wearing his jeans and a button up shirt. She was wearing her jacket and a set of mits, a hat and a scarf that she had found in her room. Chance was privately pleased to see that she had left her purse behind, which meant that she wasn't planning on leaving him just after the walk.

"I don't get cold." he replied.

"Oh... okay, then."

Chance waited for her to put on her boots before opening the door. Outside, the sun was making a comeback. The white snow was blinding in the early afternoon light, and Faith squinted as she followed Chance out the door.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "After what happened yesterday... you're allowed to be scared."

"I'm fine," Faith replied. But both of them remembered the fear from the day before and Faith stepped a little bit closer to Chance, as though his very presence could ward off the cold. He turned slightly towards her, ready to bring her back inside in case she wasn't ready.

Chance was the first to notice that their location had changed. The white around them wasn't marred by trees or houses or buildings for as far as the eye could see... except for a grey line that seemed to circle the property. He didn't bring these observations to Faith's attention. He didn't want to scare her until he was sure.

"Chance," Faith murmured as they moved away from the house, "Is it okay if I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"Well, feel free not to answer this, but..." she paused, glancing around them with a slight frown. She was noticing the differences. "Um... how is it that you are... like you are?"

"Oh," Chance said, trying to stall before he had to answer. "Right to the point."

"Well, you don't have to answer it," Faith argued, embarrased.

"I don't think I can right now." Chance muttered.

"Oh. Okay." then, after a pause, "Sorry."

"Its alright."

They walked in silence for a long time. Faith stayed close to chance. She didn't know why, but knowing that he was near after everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours made her feel safe. Granted, he was strange at times, and he wasn't exactly the type of guy that she had imagined spending her monday with, but he was...

"What the hell is that?" she asked, pointing foreward. Chance glanced at what he had noticed earlier, the grey which circled his house and a good chunk of yard. The closer they drew, the more it became like... "A wall?"

"I don't know." Chance replied, though he had a good idea.

Faith hurried ahead of him and Chance slowed his pace. He didn't want to be there when she discovered that the magic at work here did more than just provide pancake batter in a tight spot. It destroyed lives.

"What... the... shit?!" Faith asked. By now they were close enough to see that the gray shape was a brick wall, though it wasn't entirely solid. At first glance it seemed to be a regular wall used to make a sort of gate around the property, as was the case in many upper-scale areas. On closer inspection, however, it became clear that this wasn't any ordinary wall. For one, it was much taller than a regular wall... and there was no entrance of any kind.

Chance could see through the bricks when he looked very hard, but he doubted that one could simply vanish through them.

"What the fuck is this?" Faith asked, panicked. She put her hands on the wall, proving its solidity. The snow around it remained untouched, dismissing the idea that it had simply been built overnight.

"I'm sorry, Faith." Chance murmured.

"What the fuck is it?" She repeated.

"... This is what I warned you about." Chance growled softly.

"What do you mean, this is what you warned me about?" Faith asked. She turned to look at him now, and Chance could see that she would not be intimidated. "You warned me that there would be a fucking WALL?"

"I warned you that something would happen." Chance murmured.

"No. I have school. I have my mom and my dad and my friends. I don't... I just can't..." Faith trailed up. She was caught staring Chance in the eyes. She saw no triumph there. She saw only a sad, lonely pity.

"I'm sorry, Faith." Chance growled again.

"... No..."

* * *

**AN**: forgive me. It may be a long time until my next update. A mamogram revealed a lump on my mom's breast. Please send me good karma. I'll let you know how things are.


	12. Chapter 12

**ANNE:** the song for this chapter is Hide and Seak by Imogen Heap

**mysterious_lurker:** thanks for all the reviews, I didn't take anything the wrong way. I hope you write your story soon, let me know when and where I can read it. Don`t worry, there are plenty of twists to come :)

**Twelve**

_Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love __–_ Charlie Brown

After discovering the wall, Faith had silently turned back to the house. She walked the short distance silently as Chance trailed behind her, muttering apologies. She went inside the house, took off her boots, and went to her room (the door of which had been repaired since Chance had ripped it off the hinges).

Chance had never heard anything so final as the sound of the lock catching on her door.

* * *

In her room, Faith let herself flop down on the bed, tearing her jacket off while lying down. Slowly, out of Chance's sightline, she let herself mull over what was happening. She was trapped here no, stuck forever in this strange house with… _him_. She would never see her friends or family again. She would never work at her coffee shop or finish her degree. She would never, ever lay eyes on another human being for the rest of her life.

Faith began to cry. This time she didn't bother to try and silence the sobs by swallowing them down into her lungs. She let them come on their own terms, putting her hands to her face. It was a hollow comfort, but at least it was something.

* * *

Chance stood outside the door to Faith's room, wondering what he could say to make things better. When she started to cry, he nearly burst into the room to comfort her… nearly. But he remembered who and what he was… and she simple fact was that, if he hadn't lured her there, she wouldn't be trapped with him at this very moment.

He burst into his own room, destroying whatever came into his sight line. He had to do something with his rage before it consumed him. He threw his bed against the wall and tore his vanity to pieces. The knowledge that the magic would simply put everything back together again infuriated him. He didn't want to have anything left. He wanted every single thing in his possession to be ruined.

He knew that Faith would be able to hear the ruckus in her room, but didn't care. She might have thought him capable of more than animal behaviour before, but after today she would hate him. He deserved to be hated, and the sooner she learned that he was just a monster, the better.

It took the better part of an hour before Chance had finally ruined everything to his liking. Exhausted, he fell into the splintered remains of his bed and put his hands to his disfigured face, feeling the wet fur beneath his eyes.

It took a moment for him to realize that the moisture was tears.

* * *

Faith listened to the sounds of destruction. She didn't know exactly, but she had a good idea of what Chance was doing, and why he was doing it. She felt a little guilt, but it was mostly overpowered by her own sadness. When the house fell silent, she felt herself slipping into sleep. Faith let herself go, unwilling to stay awake.

* * *

After a long, long time, Chance decided to go and check in on Faith. He would apologise again, and promise to help her get home in any way that he could. And he would tell her… what? What could he possibly say that would make things better? That he cared about her? What he wanted to make her feel better?

None of it meant anything when she was trapped.

He tried her door and found that it was unlocked. Quietly, Chance crept into the room. Faith was asleep on the bed, unaware of his approach.

Chance gazed down at her with mixed feelings. He was glad that she was still with him, but there were tear trails on her cheeks. He knew that she wasn't happy… but what could he do? He had warned her… but he couldn't blame her for staying behind. The snow storm had made it impossible for her to escape.

Gently, Chance put his massive paw-like hand on her forehead. The soft texture of her skin made him want to take her into his arms and never let go, but he didn't want to wake her. He knew that she would be bothered if she awoke to find him there, staring down at her like some sort of sick pervert.

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered, his voice almost silent so the gruffness wouldn't wake her. "Please, forgive me. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

She shifted slightly in her sleep and Chance was out the door and in the living room before she could even roll over on her side, still fast asleep.

_

* * *

_

She was at work, cleaning off the tables to get ready to open. Her mom was sitting furthest from the door, nursing a cup of green tea. Faith could tell from the swell on one side of her chest and the flatness on the other that this was before her mom had her breast reconstruction.

"_Hi," she said, sitting down. _

"_Hi, sweetie." her mom replied, smiling. She'd hardly ever smiled before the surgery. "Don't be sad. Everything is going to turn out okay, I promise."_

"… _Its hard not to be scared." Faith replied. She heard the quiver of tears on the edge of her voice and began to blubber like a baby. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you and dad and everyone. I'm just stuck here."_

"_I know, baby." her mother abandoned her tea and put her arms around her. "I know its hard. But you can do anything, baby. And its not like you're never going to see me again. You will. I promise."_

"_But, mom…"_

"_Shh. Its okay. Don't be sad anymore." Her mom just held her, and Faith slowly felt some of the hopelessness seep away. The fear hung on a while longer, but it was gone soon after. Faith's tears slowed to a stop, and after a long while she pulled back from her mother's embrace, strong enough to deal with things on her own. _

"_I love you, mom." She murmured._

"_I love you too, sweetie." her mom replied._

* * *

Sad and bored, Chance went to the kitchen. In the fridge and freezer he found enough to keep him busy. Faith obviously wasn't going to come out any time soon, but he wanted to make something in case she did.

A few hours and a huge mess later, Chance had made the ugliest lasagna known to man. He put it in the oven and went to the living room to watch TV and get his mind off of things.

* * *

Faith woke up slowly, her arms wrapped around herself. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she wasn't so consumed by her sorrow.

Wanting to hear from her mom again, Faith checked her new laptop for any conformation that her mother had received her email. She had, and though she expressed some of her usual motherly concern for Faith's safety, she didn't seem overly panicked. In fact, she had been trapped at work overnight. Apparently it was one of the worst storms seen in Manitoba for a long, long time. Relieved to see that her mom was okay, Faith sent back an email saying that she was still okay and she was glad to hear that everyone was safe.

After sending the email, Faith sat back and considered Chance. She heard no destruction coming from his room, but if she listened very carefully she could hear the TV from the living room. Faith checked the time and was astonished to see that it was three in the morning.

Slowly, she got out of bed and left the room. The door was unlocked, but she wasn't surprised. It was getting hard to be surprised in a house this weird. Faith made her way down the hall and stopped just before entering the living room.

Chance was asleep on the couch with a huge dish of lasagna in front of him. It was obviously made badly, and sauce and cheese had leaked out onto the table. There were two plates with cutlery set aside, telling Faith that he had been waiting for her.

A tiny pang of guilt, mixed with something that she couldn't quite identify, rang out in Faith's mind. Slowly, Faith walked into the living room, her eyes on Chance's sleeping form all the while. He didn't wake up even when Faith picked up the stone cold lasagna and put it back in the oven to warm after cleaning off the cheese and sauce residue.

The kitchen was sparkling clean despite the hideous pasta concoction, which told Faith that the magic in the house had been cleaning up after Chance for her. In fact, the slop was missing from the coffee table when she went back to check on Chance.

He was still fast asleep.

The pang of guilt-something sounded in Faith's head again and she sat down beside her strange companion. She had been so filled with self-pity that she had failed to see that he was suffering, too. Of course he was lonely, of course he had warned her, of course he cared about her. It wasn't his fault that the storm and the wall had all worked against his better intentions.

On impulse, Faith put her arms around him, ignoring that it was more like hugging a tranquilized bear than hugging a person. Her head rested on his chest, and she could hear his heart beat a panicked tattoo as he woke up.

Chance woke with a start, his head snapping up and his eyes falling, almost in horror, to Faith's body. What was she doing? Had he done something to her in his sleep? Had he threatened her, or hurt her, or worse…?

"I'm sorry." Faith murmured.

"… What?" Chance asked, terrified. What had he done to her?

Faith moved back from the hugging position. His panic reminded her a little of Robert back when he had been so incredibly shy, and that made her smile. "For… well, closing off after seeing… outside."

"… Why are you sorry?" Chance asked.

"Because it's not your fault."

Her words jarred him. Not his fault? Everything was his fault. If he hadn't been such a prick to that ugly-pretty woman, he wouldn't be a monster. If he hadn't gone to the internet to get back to normal, he would never have met her. If he had never met her…

Chance didn't want to think of what his life might have been without Faith.

"So… I guess I'm stuck here for a bit." Faith went on. "I can deal with that. We'll have to find some stuff to do, and I should probably drop some University courses so my GPA doesn't go into the toilet, but I think I can adjust. I mean… its not the end of the world, right?"

Chance took a second to realize that he was supposed to respond. "Um… right…"

There was a long pause. Faith could see that he was still uncomfortable and changed the subject. "How's your hand?"

"Better."

"Good. I hope you don't mind, but I put the lasagna back in the oven. It was cold."

"It probably isn't edible, anyway." Chance answered. It took a second for Faith to realize that the strange grimace on his face was supposed to be a smile.

"You never know. It looked okay to me."

"I just didn't want you to think you had to do all the cooking and everything." Chance muttered.

"That was sweet." after another long pause, Faith added, "Have you... ever been hugged before?"

"… What?"

"Well, when you realized I was hugging you, you just about had a heart attack." Faith murmured gently. "Did you think I was going to hurt you or something?"

"No, of course not…" Chance replied. "But… after what happened, I thought you would hate me. And… things like me… don't get hugged by pretty girls."

"What did I say about your bad attitude?" Faith asked.

"Well, its easy to try and pretend that I don't hate myself and wish every day that I wasn't like this." Chance murmured, "But its another thing all together to actually believe that I deserve to be treated any better than an animal. I know that personality has to count for something, but…"

"But its hard." Faith finished for him.

"Yes," Chance sighed. His deep voice rumbled in his chest and Faith tried to imagine what it would be like for him out in the real world. Perhaps it was better for him to be stuck away in this strange magical place… and maybe here, she would have a purpose. Maybe she could make his life a little better.

"Well, I'll make you a deal," Faith murmured. "I'll stop bothering you about your attitude if you'll let me help you see that you're so much better than you think you are. What do you think?"

"I think you're going to have a tough time." Chance replied. Faith gave him a look and he added, "But I'll give it a shot."

"Good."

Unable to think of anymore conversation, but unwilling to let her get bored or go back to bed, Chance asked, "Did you… want to watch something?"

"I guess. I'm not too tired. How about you?"

"I've been asleep for a bit," he replied. "I'll get the lasagna and you can pick something from the DVD collection…" he caught her smiling. "What?"

"I don't think you've ever instigated any sort of activity with me." Faith replied, "Even meeting was my idea."

"… is that good or bad?"

"That's excellent."

Unable to resist a smile of his own, Chance went to get the lasagna from the oven. He was surprised to find that it had remained the ugly affair from hours before; he'd thought that the magic in the house would at least improve upon it. When he brought it back to the living room, Faith had the seasons of _House_ laid out on the table.

"You had all of these, and none of it was brought to my attention?" she accused. "W-T-F?"

"… Did you just spell out chat speak?"

"I do, when the occasion calls for it. I want to watch season one." Faith replied.

"That's fine with me." Chance agreed. "So long as we skip the first one."

"Deal."

Faith put the DVD in and selected an episode while Chance dished out the lasagna, making a huge mess of it. After Faith stepped in and got things more or less on their designated plates, they both sat down on the couch and started to eat as the patient for the episode was introduced, followed by the opening credits. Chance moved to fast foreword through them, but Faith stopped him.

"Don't, I like the song."

That was good enough for him.

* * *

Chance woke up when the sunlight stabbed his eyes, via the window. The first odd thing that he noticed was that he was lying on the couch with a lasagna plate teetering precariously by his head. The second (and much more important) thing he noticed was that Faith was with him, and he had his arms around her.

She was fast asleep, and her fingers were clinging to his shirt.

Chance nearly knocked the plate down, and he took great pains to untangle his arm from Faith and put it to the side without waking her. Faith slept on, obviously exhausted from watching four _House_ episodes in a row on top of a hectic, emotion-charged day.

It took an enormous amount of willpower for Chance to get up and leave her there while he straightened things up. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold Faith in his arms until she woke up… but he knew that waking up in his arms would only make her nervous.

After putting it off as long as possible, Chance carried Faith to her room and placed her in her bed, adjusting the pillows and blankets until everything as just right. Strands of black hair marred Faith's peaceful face. He brushed it away, wishing that he was a man again. If he had his old body back…

_What would I do to her?_ Chance asked himself. _I would sleep with her, use her like a piece of meat and then throw her away. I'd never call her again, and I'd move onto the next piece of ass while she was still thinking about me. _Chance couldn't deny that he had been a total, horrendous prick in his human life. He didn't deserve Faith, human or not.

But he didn't want to sleep with her. He just wanted to hold her against his chest until she woke up. He just wanted to be as close to her as possible, to entwine his hands in hers and talk with her until… until the end of time. As long as she was near him, he could be happy.

It was at that moment that Chance realized that he was totally, irrevocably in love with Faith. Rather than being a joyous realization, Chance felt a brick of sorrow drop into his chest. Faith could never, _ever_ love him back, no matter how friendly she was, no matter how much she seemed to care.

Sadly, Chance looked down at his hurt hand, tracing over the cut that Faith had bandaged with such infinite care. She could never love him… because no one could ever love a Beast.

* * *

**AN:** Finally I get a chance ot update this...


	13. Chapter 13

**ANNE:** The song for this chapter is All the Things That I've Done by The Killers

**sueariel:** thank you. I love ugly Lasagna :)

**Thirteen**

_Nothing is too wonderful to be true __–_Michael Faraday

It was early afternoon when Faith woke up. Her sense of time was skewed after all the odd hours she'd kept the night before, and apparently, so was her sense of place. She didn't remember getting into bed. She didn't remember leaving the living room under her own power. All she remembered was watching a few _House_ episodes… and then a feeling of divine warmth.

She showered and dressed, trying to decide what she was going to fill her day with now that there was no going home. Certainly, she had to withdraw from all of her current University courses so her GPA didn't go entirely to shit… and then there would be explanations for her parents and her friends and work… she didn't work until Friday, but somehow Faith doubted that she would be back home by then.

But what excuse could she give everyone? People wouldn't believe her if she told the truth… and Faith wasn't sure if she wanted to say anything about Chance. Looking like he did… people would talk. Faith tried to tell herself that different people weren't put in asylums or anything anymore, but her base instinct told her that Chance could never be free again if people knew about him. And the very fact that she was being kept there against her will… people would blame him for that, too. He could be arrested, put in prison…

Faith sighed, sitting down at her bed and looking up at one of the posters on the wall. Edward Scissorhands stared gloomily down at her, and Faith couldn't help but imagine Chance in the final confrontation scene…

No one could know. But how else could she explain her absence? Reading week was coming up, but after that people were bound to notice, and hiding her location from her parents would be a hell of a lot harder than hiding the dropped courses on her transcript. There had to be some sort of excuse she could give them, at least as a temporary measure, until she could think of something better.

It was too late to say she was going abroad for a semester, the term had already started. Her mother had told her at the beginning of the year that she could take a semester off if she wanted to, but when it had already started…? She couldn't claim that she just wanted to drop out, either. Her parents knew that she wanted to get an education… and nothing covered the fact that no one would see her, ever.

Faith could get away with a trip for reading week to Florida or something with one of her friends, but after that there wasn't anything that could explain her being away. She had to think of an excuse that covered her not being in school as well as not being in Winnipeg… or Manitoba, for that matter. She needed something that she could tell friends, family and work in case they compared stories later… and she needed it fast.

The idea of lying, especially to her mother, made Faith's chest tighten. She knew that she could lie to work, was pretty sure that she could lie to her friends, might be able to fool her dad, but her mother… that was a totally different issue. Ever since the breast cancer, they had been open and honest and loving. They had had their fair share of fights, but Faith never lied to her mother.

Her chest tightened again, and tears came to her eyes. She could never, ever tell her mother about Chance. She couldn't put him in danger… which meant that she would have to lie to, worry, and disappoint her mother.

* * *

Chance never went back to sleep. He tried to keep his mind busy by reading the mountain of books that Faith had recommended to him, but it was impossible not to think of her… or this terrible, wrenching feeling that tore at his insides.

Chance had been in lust several times in his life, and had told women that he loved them every time he felt in extreme need of a good fuck. He'd lost his virginity at a young age and never looked back, exploring women of all kinds until he was an expert on the physical aspect of love… but he'd never felt the emotional part. Even his family, long gone since he'd become a successful model, hadn't meant too much to him.

He supposed that he should have seen this coming. After all, he'd begun to feel something for her long before they met in person. Not love, surely, but a slight warming… like a friendship, but deeper. He'd spent nights wondering about her, thinking of her… all before he'd ever seen her face.

Since the day they agreed to meet, the feeling only bloomed into something much stronger, much deeper, and much more painful because he knew now that it would never be returned. Faith might want to be his friend, but being anything more than that was out of the question. She was a pretty young woman, and he was a monster. He wasn't human, he wasn't animal… he was some strange hybrid, a creation of his own cruelty.

And, no matter what, he couldn't push himself on Faith. He knew that. It was bad enough for her to be trapped with him. If he tried to tell her how he felt… she would be nice and smooth things out, but she wouldn't be happy. She could never love him back… and he couldn't blame her.

"Please, just let her go home." he murmured aloud on the off chance that the magic would hear and obey. "Let her go about her life. Its one thing to keep me here. I deserve it. She doesn't."

The house, obstinate as ever, said nothing.

* * *

Faith didn't realize that she was staring aimlessly into space, somewhere in the direction of the _Edward Scissorhands_ poster, until the knock on hr door brought her out of it. "Come in," She mumbled, pulling her legs up onto the bed so she was sitting cross-legged.

Chance entered slowly, almost guiltily, and knew right away that something was wrong. Stress was plastered across Faith's face, and for a moment he panicked. Had she woken up before he could get her safely back to her room? Did she know…?

"What would you tell your parents if you had to explain dropping out of school and a long absence?" Faith asked, startling him.

"… What?"

"I… kind of need an excuse to tell everyone." Faith explained, slightly embarrassed by her own lack of ideas. She was still a teenager; wasn't lying something that she was supposed to be good at? "I can't think of anything."

"… Oh…" Chance murmured. He'd never thought of that. "Is… is it really going to be very obvious?"

Slightly bothered by the question, Faith replied: "Well, I have family, friends, a job… yes, people are going to notice."

Chance realized that he'd just been a total asshole. At least things were getting back to normal for a bit. "Sorry. I meant… do you have to tell people right now?"

"Yes. A few more days without hearing my voice or seeing me and certain people will break down my door." Faith replied. "And my mother will most likely be leading the way."

Chance sighed, looking down at his hurt hand. The bandage was stained with lasagne sauce. He curled his hand into a fist, mumbling, "Maybe you should tell them the truth."

"I can't do that." Faith replied.

"Why not?"

"People are going to want more detail than I can give them."

"Why can't you give them all of the details?" Chance asked.

"How do you think you'd react to hearing that your responsible daughter had gone into a chat room, met someone, and was now stuck in his house against her will? Oh, and by the way, he looks like you do?" Faith asked, not unkindly. "Not to sound like a total bitch, but there are reasons that you talk to people on the internet rather than face to face, right? As a parent in that situation, what would you do?"

"They wouldn't be angry." Chance murmured guiltily. "Its not your fault."

"That's not the part I'm worried about." Faith replied.

Chance forced himself to meet her eyes. "Then… what are you worried about?"

"I'm worried about people breaking in here and taking you off to a zoo or a research center or something." Faith muttered. "I'd like to believe that people are better than that, but deep down I don't… and I'm not willing to risk it."

Chance looked away for a moment, thinking. He supposed that he should be pleased that she was worrying about him, but he was bothered by it. He didn't want to keep her from telling the truth when he was already keeping her from her family. Perhaps, if someone broke and took him away, things would be better for her… but that would require the magic in the house to simply shut off somehow and stop interfering with his life, which he knew was impossible. No one would ever find him. He was protected as long as he was a monster.

He was safe forever.

"I just don't want to worry them." Faith sighed.

Chance caught the tremor of a sob in her voice and looked back to find her wiping a tear from her cheek. Concerned, he closed the distance between them and sat next to her on the bed. He ignored the bed's indignant creaking and the fact that Faith was now sitting on a tilt because of his weight pushing part of the mattress down.

"It… its going to be okay, Faith." he murmured awkwardly. "Parents are supposed to worry."

"I don't want my mom to worry." Faith whimpered.

"… Why not?" Chance asked.

"Because she's worried enough." She replied. She wiped at her face again, clearing her tears away. Feeling the need to explain, she went on: "A couple years ago she had breast cancer. The whole time, I thought she was going to die. Now I try not to worry her if I can help it. She's had enough stress in her life."

Chance felt guilt squeeze at his chest. He wasn't just keeping her from her life. He was interfering with everything she cared about. Mother daughter relationships were important, according to one girlfriend he'd had who explained in more detail than he needed how her mother was her rock, her everything, and how she would be nothing without her… blah, blah, blah.

He hadn't given a shit then. He did now.

He had no idea how or why he did it, but Chance put his arm over her shoulders. "Its okay, Faith."

She looked at him sadly. "What am I supposed to tell them?"

Defeated, he answered, "I don't know. But I'll help you think of something."

Faith put her hands to her face, pressing on her forehead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into my stupid emotions. I just… I feel helpless."

"So do I," Chance admitted. He could just barely feel the warmth of her shoulders through her clothes. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

"So this is what you tried to warn me about," Faith murmured, changing the subject a little bit. "That the house randomly… adds fences?"

"It also randomly moves to different parts of… well, at least North America, although I swear once it was in England." Chance explained. "And it used to switch the rooms around, but it hasn't done that for a few days. I think that's because it just likes you better than me."

That made her smile a bit, which made Chance feel a thousand times better. "I guess sitting around here and moping isn't going to make things any better, is it?"

"No. I've tried that." Chance replied. "How about some breakfast?"

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Chance tried to monitor Faith's mood while she munched on some Cheerios, but he couldn't tell if her mood was getting better because it was actually getting better or if she was faking it so he wouldn't be so concerned about her. It didn't help that he was suddenly self conscious about how he was eating. Holding a spoon in his clumsy, paw-like hands seemed far too difficult, and he was trying to eliminate the quiet slurping noises he made every time he tried to take a bite of cereal.

Faith was pretending that she didn't notice his lack of table etiquette, or the fact that he was well on his way to finishing the box of cereal. Her mind was still half occupied with the problem of what she could tell everyone, most importantly her parents, to explain her absence without pulling Chance into it.

"Reading week is next week." she mumbled thoughtfully.

Chance swallowed quickly, nearly choking with half-chewed cereal. "And?"

"And… I could at least explain a week's absence with that." she replied sullenly. "Its not much, but I could say that I was going to Florida with a girlfriend… people would believe that, and it would cover work as well as family and friends. After that… I'll need something else."

"A week is better than nothing," Chance replied.

"Yeah," Faith agreed. "I just wish I could think of something else that would cover more time… but I need to call into work sick for the shift I have this week and then explain away my absence."

"Will they ask who you're going with?"

"Probably, but I have so many friends they can't possibly keep track of them all." Faith replied with a muted grin. "I'll just say a random name, explain that she's from school, and they'll stop asking me questions."

"For someone who rarely lies to her parents, you've got this pretty well thought out." Chance muttered, trying to make a joke. Hurt spread out on Faith's face and he regretted his "humour" instantly.

"I don't like lying to them." She sighed. "I just don't want them to worry, either."

"I know." Chance murmured. Why was he always such a total asshole? "I'm sorry."

"Its okay." Faith replied. "I think I'm just being oversensitive about everything. I just… this is just kind of… difficult for me."

"I understand."

"Mmm," Faith replied quietly.

Her head was bowed low over her cereal bowl and Chance couldn't tell if she was just really intent on her cereal, if she was trying to hide her sadness, or if she was pissed at him. She pushed some soggy bits around for a bit and then pushed the bowl away, unable to meet Chance's eyes.

"Is there anything I can do?" Chance asked softly.

"No, I think I have my lies pretty much covered." Faith replied.

"I meant for you." he murmured.

"… Oh." Faith forced herself to look up. "Sorry, I'm being a bitch, aren't I?"

"No. Just understandably upset." Chance replied. He pushed his bowl aside. "So, is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so." Faith replied apologetically.

"Did you… want to listen to music, or… or watch a movie or something?" Chance suggested.

Faith realized that he was just trying to help and tried to make herself seem happier. "Sure. I just… I guess I should email my mom with my plans first. And… oh, shit."

"What?"

"I can't call in sick for work. I just realized. My phone doesn't work here… do you have one I can borrow?"

To tell the truth, Chance had never thought of it before, but since his transformation his house had been devoid of so much as a peep from one of those asshole telemarketers that never seemed to leave him alone before. He looked to where his phone used to be and found it missing. "Um… no, actually."

"I thought as much." Faith sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have to… email someone and get rid of my shifts…" Faith took her dishes to the sink and washed them out. Chance watched her defeated movements and wondered how she could stand to be in the same room with him after all the trouble he'd caused her. He shouldn't have asked her about the movie. She probably want to be alone.

"Faith?"

"Yeah?" she dried her bowl out and put it away.

"You… you don't have to spend time with me today." he murmured. He began etching patterns into the cereal box with his thick fingernail. "I understand if you want to be left alone. I won't bother you."

"… I think I'd rather spend time with you than mope around by myself." Faith replied softly. "I'm sorry if I'm giving off the impression that I feel otherwise. I'm just not very good at keeping my emotions in check, that's all."

"Okay," Chance replied, unconvinced.

* * *

It took Faith an hour to write to lie-filled emails that she was happy with and send them off to her mother and the people she worked with. Cat replied right away to her work concerned email, saying that she would be happy to take the shifts but Faith now owed her hugely… like setting her up with Robert, since suddenly Cat was of the impression that she liked him. Faith rolled her eyes, replied with a maybe, and logged off the internet.

She took a second to find a DVD she wanted to watch from her collection and decided on Tim Burton's _Sweeney Todd_, since a little blood and guts usually put her in a better mood… and she liked singing along to "The Worst Pies in London".

Besides, seeing Johnny Depp always made her feel a little better about her life.

When she came upon Chance, he was going through his own collection of DVDs and had several on the coffee table for her inspection. He slapped the last one down just as she started looking through them.

"Just suggestions," he muttered. "What were you in the mood for?"

"I brought this," she replied, handing him her own DVD. Interested, he read the back of the DVD case as she started looking through what he'd chosen. "_Pirates of the Caribbean_ one, two and three_, Dark Knight, Austin Powers: the Spy who Shagged Me…_ that doesn't quite fit the pattern."

"I'm being patriotic." Chance replied with a grin. "But I'd rather hear Johnny Depp attempt to sing and kill people all at once."

"I'm of the same opinion. And he does it quite well." Faith replied.

* * *

Chance was a little better at paying attention to the movie this time (maybe because of the spurting blood and revenge that seemed to draw his attention in more), but he still glanced at Faith every once and a while, more to see if she was doing alright than to gorge himself with his sight. She looked sad, but mostly she was alright.

They ended up watching most movies in the table, periodically stopping to go and get something to snack on before running back to glue their eyes to the screen. Chance very much enjoyed the fact that Faith was watching the movies with him. Everything seemed better when he could do it with her, rather than alone.

At one point Chance almost put his arm nonchalantly around her before realizing what he was. It was one thing if she was clinging to him during the night: it was quite another if he was making advances on her while she was helpless against him. Why couldn't he control himself?

The moment ruined, Chance told himself that if he really loved her, he would find a way to get her out of this horrid house. If he really loved her-

"Chance?" Faith murmured, pulling him out of his negativity.

"Yes?" he replied, paranoia making him wonder if she knew what he had been about to do.

"Thanks for helping me get my mind off of stuff," She said, smiling up at him.

"Uh, you're… welcome." Chance replied softly, inwardly promising himself that he would do whatever it took to get Faith home.

* * *

**AN:** At last! My arm is complete again!


	14. Chapter 14

**ANNE:** The song for this chapter is Save You, by Emilie Autumn

**Fourteen**

_There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart__'__s desire. The other is to get it __–_George Bernard Shaw

Chance had waited for Faith to go to bed under her own power. When he was sure that she was fast asleep, he went outside. It was much colder at night, and the deep snow made it harder to walk, but Chance could deal with it far better than Faith could… and he didn't want her there because, if his attempts were unsuccessful, she would be utterly disappointed.

He walked quickly to the wall they'd seen the day before, observing it as he closed the distance between himself and the grey shape. It was taller than he had expected, and in the dark the not-quite-opaque quality that the wall had had was gone. It was utterly solid now…

Doubtful that he would have any impact, but willing to try, Chance threw himself against the wall, using his broad shoulder as a battering ram. He slammed into a completely solid wall, sending a wave of shock down the side of his body. He tried again, throwing himself harder, and the shock became one of pain. On the third try he nearly dislocated his shoulder and was forced to fall back, one hand on the sore muscles.

Okay. Breaking out simply wasn't an option. Chance could tear doors off of their hinges, but apparently his physical power had limits. He hadn't put to much hope in the idea that simply smacking into the wall would make it go away, but he'd been willing to try.

Climbing was his next answer.

The interlocking bricks were very neat, and Chance very much doubted that he could get his claws into the mortar and climb to the top safely. Still, he preferred trying to do it himself first and failing than doing it with Faith and accidentally killing her.

Grateful for his bodily anomalies for once, Chance tried to shove his large fingers into the minute spaces between the bricks. It wasn't easy, and he tore one claw right off the hop. Now he could appreciate why girls were always bitching about breaking their nails.

Chance began to claw his way haphazardly to the top, slipping every once and a while but almost getting the hang of it. It was slow work, and more than once he had to stop and get a better grip on the bricks. He was amazed that he was doing as well as he was… maybe he would be able to get Faith safely over to the other side if he took his time about it and was very, very careful…

He slipped. Chance scrambled to get a hold, digging into the cramped spaces between the bricks. After his heart rate calmed a little he tried again, moving upwards. He slipped again, and this time he couldn't get a second grip. Chance plummeted to the ground, falling hard on his back with an audible thump.

He roared in pain, cursing loudly as his back spasmed in agony. He was sure he'd snapped his spine, but his tentative attempts to get up showed that he wasn't paralyzed. He could move his legs and arms, but each movement drew a scream from his lips. His back wasn't broken, but he certainly hadn't come away unscathed either.

Blood from his fingertips marred the whiteness of the snow beneath him as Chance pushed himself up onto all fours. He bit at his lips so hard they bled, trying not to scream again. It took a long time for the spasms in his back to quiet, and Chance tried to think clearly. Pain fogged his mind, and he was getting cold now that he wasn't moving. He was going to be in danger if he didn't start moving again, but he wasn't sure he could endure the pain.

Those thoughts took a back seat to the pain that he felt at the thought that he had failed. If he couldn't get over the wall himself, there was no hope for getting Faith away and free. He'd failed her.

Slowly, painfully, Chance began to crawl towards the house, stopping every few feet to catch his breath and curse a little bit. He made low, pained noises in his throat, trying not to cry out. It was going to take him a long time for Chance to get safely indoors, and it was just his luck that it would start snowing again before he could get there. Sure enough, cold fat flakes started to fall on his already-tightening back before he's half closed the distance before himself and the house.

* * *

Faith sat up in bed, panicked. She didn't know what she'd heard. Her gut told her that it had been a scream, but it sounded more like the volatile roar of a lion than any scream she'd ever heard before. Her first thoughts went to Chance. His voice was deep like that, but surely he was close by, not far off like the scream-roar had been…?

Only in her nightgown, Faith got out of bed. Her purple hoodie hanging off of the doorknob to her bathroom and she grabbed it, pulling it over her bare arms and zipping it up. Her mind pressed past her fast-lifting sleepiness and tried to decipher where Chance might be.

She checked his room. Not there. She checked the kitchen. Not there. She checked the living room. Not there. She checked a few rooms she'd never been in before: a study, another bathroom, a room that seemed to be an office except that it was covered in magazines and binders and other decidedly un-office-y things. He wasn't in any of them.

Worried, Faith went to the front door and tested it. It was unlocked, but she couldn't remember whether or not Chance had a habit of locking the door. She doubted that it meant anything, but she opened the door and looked out anyways. Sure enough there was a set of large footprints leading away from the house, quickly filling with the freshly falling snow. He'd probably just gone out for a walk. He could take care of himself - she didn't need to worry about him anymore…

… _Except… that scream…_

Faith pulled on her uggs and went out, following the prints. Best case scenario, she would find Chance on a walk and admit that she had worried about him after hearing something weird. Worst case scenario… he was in pain for some reason, and she couldn't ignore that. It was cold out, and there was nothing protecting Faith's legs. She pulled the hood of her hoodie up over her head and put her hands in the pockets, hoping that she would find Chance soon.

It didn't take long before Faith saw a dark shape against the snow. She didn't know what it was. She wondered if, maybe, Chance hunted at night for food and that was what she'd heard… Faith ad never considered him as a hunter before, but it certainly seemed possible, especially with his claws and his strength and all of his teeth…

Suddenly Faith realized that the shape wasn't something Chance had killed. It was Chance, lying very still on his side. Something very close to terror stabbed through Faith's mind as she hurried closer, her heart pounding. Regardless of her bare legs, Faith knelt beside the shape in the snow.

"Chance?" she murmured.

A low grunt was issued from the still form. His eyes were closed.

"Are you okay?" Faith asked.

"… No." came the quiet reply.

"What… happened?" Faith asked. Her eyes fell on the drops of blood in the snow surrounding his hand and she went to touch him.

"Don't touch me." Came a quiet plea. "I fell. Everything… hurts."

"… From what?" Faith asked, curiosity mixing with her worry.

"The wall." he muttered.

Faith's curiosity was quickly turning to confusion. "You fell from… the wall? Why would you be on the wall to begin with?"

"I was trying to find a way over it." Chance sighed.

"… Oh." Faith replied. "That… was because of me, wasn't it?"

"… Yes." Chance replied.

Faith fell silent. She was beginning to notice the icy cold as it stabbed through her bare legs, but she ignored it. Chance took this opportunity to open his eyes. He looked at her painfully, and after a moment the pain receded into something that looked a lot like concern.

"Why are you out here without a jacket?" he asked.

"Because I heard you scream and I was worried." Faith replied softly.

Chance sighed. He fell silent for a few moments and then said, "I'm going to try and get up now. Its going to hurt, and I'm going to scream very, very loudly. You may have to help me."

"Okay." Faith murmured.

Chance tensed up and screwed his eyes shut. Slowly, biting his lip and causing more blood to flow out, Chance rolled over so that his head was down in the snow. Faith saw how tense his back was and guessed that was what he'd fallen on. After a moment's rest, Chance began to push himself back onto all fours. This time he screamed in pain, and Faith's heart seemed to stop. Chance paused again, glancing at Faith with an apologetic look.

"Do you think you might be able to help me get to my feet…?" he asked.

"Of course." She moved foreword and grasped his arm. Chance sighed softly and breathed deeply. Faith could feel his muscles tense beneath her fingertips.

"On three," he murmured. "One, two, three… FUCK!"

Faith was on her feet first, slowly pulling Chance upwards. His face was screwed into a mask of utter pain and he cursed periodically. Faith could feel his muscles tense, relax, tense, relax in an attempt to alleviate his pain and stay upright at the same time. He almost fell on top of her, and Faith struggled in order to support his weight.

Once Chance was standing in relative comfort, she got his arm over her shoulder. She would never have admitted it, but she wasn't sure how long she could support him. She'd never had very much upper body strength, and she was pulling strongly from the muscles in her legs.

"Am I hurting you?" Chance asked between curses.

"No," Faith lied, though she was sure he could feel her shoulder bunching under his weight. "Let's go."

It was a very slow walk back to the house. Chance's back would cause him so much pain that sometimes he had to stop and wait for what seemed like an eternity before he could walk again. His stride was much longer than Faith's, even in as much pain as he was in, and she had to struggle to keep up with him without jostling his back.

As they walked in slow silence, Faith had a moment to contemplate his actions. Had he realized that he could hurt himself badly if he'd fallen? Had the possibility even mattered to him? Hadn't he been concerned about what would happen if he'd hurt himself and she hadn't come to investigate?

Carefully, Faith put her arm across his back to help support him. Chance grunted I pain and she drew away quickly, asking, "Sorry, did that hurt?"

"It helps more than it hurts." he replied, his voice clipped with pain. "Come on. Let's get you inside."

"… you can't possibly be concerned about me being cold when you nearly killed yourself… can you …?" Faith asked, touched.

"Of course I am. You have a habit of going outside without proper protection, and I'm not in a position to play the hero right now." Chance replied, attempting at a joke. His voice betrayed his extreme pain and he bit his lip again.

"You're bleeding." Faith whispered, grateful that his closeness was providing a little warmth.

* * *

"I'm a little too far gone to be concerned about it right now." Chance replied.

Faith didn't know how long it took to get Chance back to the house. She hazarded a guess at ten minutes, but it seemed much longer than that.

"We should just stop at the living room. Its closer."

"Deal." Chance hissed.

They moved slowly towards the couch, leaving the front door wide open. Faith would go back to get that later. Chance growled softly as Faith helped him lay across the length of the couch. Her shoulders screamed in relief when she was finally free of him, but she would never have admitted it. Chance closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to distract himself from his pain.

Faith left his side for a moment, first going to get her purse and then getting a glass of water from the kitchen. She then knelt beside the couch, going through her purse until she found her tiny emergency container for pills. She got out two Advil's and then, taking note that Chance was twice her size and when she was in pain she popped these things like candy, poured four more out onto her palm.

"Chance?" she murmured, holding the pills in one hand and the glass of water in the other. "I have some painkillers for you."

"Thank god," he murmured softly. "What is it?"

"Six Advil's."

"Is there a possibility of you making it ten?" she didn't answer and he added, "Look at me, Faith. I can drink half a bottle of vodka and not feel it. I don't think six little pills will cover this."

"Sure."

Faith handed him the pills and he took them all at once, chasing them with the glass of water. Faith noticed that his cut from the other day was bleeding, un-bandaged and reopened in the confusion. Chance glanced down at it and made a fist.

"It's a lot better than it was…" he offered, embarrassed.

"Do you mind if I clean it up a bit?" Faith asked. "You're starting to get a collection."

"I don't want you to loose sleep over me." Chance muttered.

"It's not like I have to get up early for anything." Faith reminded him.

"… Fine."

* * *

Chance tried to ignore his pain as he waited for the Advil to set in. Faith worked quietly, gently cleaning and bandaging first the older wound and then each of his newly battered fingers. Chance had his eyes closed most of the time, but she could tell from the way he tensed every once and a while that he was awake. His lip had stopped bleeding, and she wasn't sure whether or not she was "allowed" to touch his face. She dabbed quickly and gently at the dried blood before going to dispose of her make-shift first aid kit.

Chance was a little more relaxed when she came back, which caused her to wonder if the Advil had already kicked in. She decided that his metabolism was much faster than a regular person's, which explained how much he ate. Faith toyed with the idea of going back to bed, but she wasn't tired anymore and she wanted to be nearby in case Chance needed anything else. She wondered if now was the time to bother him about what he'd done and why he'd done it. She knelt beside the couch again, and this time she picked up _the Gargoyle_ and started to flip through the pages, wanting to speak with Chance, but unsure of where she should begin.

"Faith?" Chance murmured after a couple minutes.

"Yes?"

"Thank you… for helping me." he sighed, and there was something close to embarrassment in his face. "I'd… just about given up when you came along."

Faith closed the book and looked up at her companion. Obviously uncomfortable, Chance was propped up on his elbow and looking down at her with something she couldn't quite identify in his eyes. Faith wondered what would have happened if she simply went back to bed and ignored what she'd heard and stifled a shudder. He could have been out there for hours before she thought something was amiss…

"I'm glad I was there to help." Faith replied, and she found that the words were hollow compared to what she felt. She tried to smile as she murmured, "Just try not to kill yourself again, okay?"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself." Chance murmured. "I just wanted to get you out of here."

"I know…" Faith reached out and grasped his hand, surprising him. "Thanks. But… I really don't mind it here, Chance. I can deal with whatever this place throws at me… but you have to promise not to hurt yourself again, especially not for my sake. Because if you weren't here… it would be hell."

Faith lowered her head, surprised by the tears that were prickling at her eyes. She really hadn't considered her feelings for Chance on anything but the most basic level, but she was beginning to discover that he meant a lot more than she had known. Chance observed the emotion in Faith's voice and wondered what he'd done to deserve such concern. He squeezed her hand gently, almost grateful that his pain stopped him from doing much else.

"I promise, Faith." he murmured, releasing her hand.

"… thanks." Faith replied softly. She hugged the book to her chest, confused by her own emotions.

Chance looked down at her with wonder, wishing that he had the courage and the peace of mind to tell her how much she meant to him… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want to create any more baggage than necessary, especially if he was going to keep his promise to himself and get Faith home. Faith glanced up at him and caught the strange look he was giving her, unable to interpret it.

After a long moment she realized that she was still holding the book. She wanted to read it, but didn't want to ignore Chance. Quickly thinking of a compromise, Faith asked, "Would you like me to read to you for a bit?"

Chance nodded. He couldn't think of anything better than Faith reading aloud to him.

"From the beginning, or…?"

"The beginning." Chance replied. He'd never gotten more than two pages in, as he'd started reading it the day Faith entered his non-internet life, and he hadn't been paying much attention then."

"Okay…" Faith opened the book and cleared her throat.

"_Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love. It was Good Friday and the stars were just starting to dissolve into the dawn. As I drove, I stroked the scar on my chest, by habit. My eyes were heavy and my vision unfocused, not surprising given that I'd spent the night hunched over a mirror snorting away the bars of white powder that kept my face trapped in the glass. I believed I was keening my reflexes. I was wrong…"_

Faith read softly and steadily. Chance was almost lulled into a state of comfort as he closed his eyes, resting his head. His screaming muscles quieted as the fist full of Advil kicked in, and Chance was nearly relaxed when Faith brought to light the fact that the narrator in the story just had his penis burned off. That was a little too close for comfort.

Faith had glanced up, having nearly memorized the bit where the narrator shares the last thing he lost in the fire, to gage Chance's reaction. She very much enjoyed recommending this story to men and then seeing what it did to them to have to read about the loss of a man's penis. Chance's face tensed, a not uncommon reaction. But what Faith enjoyed most about the story was that the main character, once a handsome porn star, now had to learn to live and love as a horribly burned, penis-free version of himself. The story was funny, sad, romantic and heartbreaking all at once.

Faith read on, though she let a deeper part of her mind wander. She considered what Chance had done and asked herself if she would have risked her safety to help him had their positions been reversed. Ultimately she decided that she couldn't know what she would do unless she was faced with the same dilemma.

_He must really care about me,_ she thought to herself, and Faith glanced up from the book to look at Chance again. His eyes were closed, though she could tell from the tension in his face that Chance wasn't asleep. Faith kept her voice even in tone and volume, hoping that she could lull him into a relatively painless sleep. After all he'd done for her, Faith just wanted him to be comfortable… and happy.

* * *

**AN:** The Gargoyle is an awesome book, although I'm not sure how easy it is to get your hands on it outside of Canada as it is a Canadian novel. Anywho, it is about a porn star who's penis gets burned off and the similarity to Chance's prediciment is purely coincedental. I just think its awesome that a porn star and a model, two oversexed career people, get their genetalia removed by way of fire and magic.


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

_Being thought if as a __'__beautiful woman__'__ has spared me nothing in life. No heartache, no trouble. Beauty is essentially meaningless and is always transitory __–_Halle Berry

Faith woke up a mixture of quiet cursing and struggle. She opened her eyes and realized that she was lying on the floor at the foot of the couch with _The Gargoyle _laying open a foot from her head. She was covered by a blanket and there was a pillow beneath her head.

She looked up just in time to see Chance crawling out of sight and down the wall, muttering a litany of curses under his breath as he did so. Faith sat up quietly, thinking. She was positive that she had never gotten up to get a blanket for herself. She'd gotten a pillow and blanket for Chance, but she hadn't gotten one for herself… guilt swelled through her mind as she considered the thought that Chance had given up these small comforts on her account, even when he was hurt so badly.

Faith stood, and a glance out the window told her that it was morning already. She moved quietly towards the muffled cursing in the hallway and found Chance on all fours, head hung in defeat. Her heart thumped painfully in a mix of pity and guilt.

"Chance…?" she called softly. She didn't know if he would welcome her help or want to save face by sending her away.

Chance sighed, gulping a breath of air before muttering, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Its fine." She closed the distance between them and murmured, "Did you want some help?"

"… No." Chance replied quietly, but the tone of his voice said differently.

"Chance…" Faith kneeled and cleared her throat, trying not to be patronizing. She got the whole "male ego" thing, but there was a time and a place for that and this was neither. "You're on your hands and knees. If anything, that can't be good for your back."

He didn't reply. With a lot of effort Chance managed to get to a kneeling position. Faith tried to help him but he simply waved her away. His hand rested heavily on the wall for support, and on closer inspection Faith could see that his claws were actually buried in the drywall, though later on she wouldn't be able to find any marks. With more pained effort he was able to get to his feet, and Faith did the same in case he lost balance, trying to keep seem nonchalant in her close pursuit.

After a pause Chance's pain receded a bit. Staring straight ahead so that he wouldn't have to see Faith's expression, he muttered, "I'm going to the washroom."

Suddenly, Faith realized his need to make it without her. He wasn't just being an ass-hat. He wanted some privacy. "Oh." she backed away quickly, keeping within catching distance just in case, but otherwise allowing him to go alone.

Chance burned with embarrassment as he inched along the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind him, horrified for some reason that Faith was aware of his bodily functions, and tried not to think about what was going through her mind at that moment.

* * *

Faith waited until she was sure Chance was safely inside the bathroom before going to her purse for more pain killers. After counting out her last four Advil's Faith realized that she would need some stronger stuff. She went through her tiny pill collection. She had a few anti-nausea pills, a caffeine pill for emergencies, and a couple Cold FX.

This was not going to help Chance. Faith set the four Advil's aside with a sigh. Ten had barely made the pain manageable. Four wouldn't even make a dent. And it wasn't as if she could just run to the store, especially since the stupid house seemed to be using whatever powers it had at its disposal to magically screw everything up…

… _Magically…_

Something struck Faith then. When she had wanted pancake batter, she'd gotten it. When she'd needed a bathroom, she'd gotten one. When she'd wanted to watch Sweeney Todd, the DVD had been there. So that meant…

Faith went to the kitchen, feeling slightly like an idiot, but willing to go out on a limb if she could male Chance feel better. She opened a cupboard and noted that it was bare of any painkillers. She closed the cupboard and, feeling somewhat like a child, muttered: "I'd like some pain pills, please." When she opened the cupboard again she found five full bottles of extra strength Advil.

Faith had to admit: that was kind of awesome. She filled a glass with water and twisted the cap off of one of the bottles, ready to give Chance the whole damn thing it that was going to help.

* * *

Chance opened the door to his room and glanced down the hall in time to see Chance scurry out of sight. Embarrassment played in the back of Chance's mind, but a tiny part of him was pleased that she was worried about him.

Biting his lip to keep from cursing as a spasm screamed its way up his spine, Chance made his way back down the hall towards the couch. Faith re-entered the hallway with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other, her eyes filling with concern when she saw what Chance was doing.

"Shouldn't you stay in your room?" she asked. "You've got a bed in there, and you'd be closer to the bathroom…"

"I don't want to be cooped up in my room for however long it takes for me to be able to walk without screaming." Chance muttered. Truthfully, he'd much rather be out in the living room so he could spend some time with Faith. His room seemed lonely, filled with bad memories. He could deal with a painful trek to the bathroom every few hours. "I'd rather watch TV…"

"Oh." Faith held the glass of water and bottle of pills out tentatively. "Did you want-?"

"Hell yes."

Chance moved as fast as his sore body allowed, first taking the bottle of pills and pouring a good mouthful in before washing them down with the water. Faith stood by quietly, taking the pill bottle, not quite two-thirds full now, and the empty water glass. Chance took a deep breath, dizzied by the pain he'd caused in his haste, and glanced towards Faith.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"No problem." Faith murmured.

She stayed close, quietly offering her shoulders for support. Chance decided that he could make the slow journey back to the couch on his own and muttered, "I'm fine, really."

"I know," Faith lied, and she risked going back to the kitchen to re-cap the bottle of pills and leave the glass on the counter. She waited what she thought was an appropriately unworried amount of time before going back to the hallway. Chance hadn't made it far.

"So…" Faith cleared her throat, trying to use a conversation as her excuse to stay close. "Did you… want something for breakfast?"

"Sure," Chance replied. He appreciated her concern but wished that she wouldn't waste her time being worried about him.

"What would you like?"

"I guess cereal would be fine," Chance mumbled, unwilling to ask for anything more complicated.

"Okay." Faith thought she heard a queue for her to leave in Chance's voice, but she stayed close by. "Did you want me to grab a specific movie or something for you to get your mind off of everything?"

"Not at the moment," Chance replied. He thought of suggesting that he would like to be alone, just to get Faith to go worry about something else, but decided against it.

There was an awkward silence while Chance made painful his exit from the hallway. Here he had no wall to support him, and Faith continued her worried hover. She couldn't bring herself to leave him. She knew that he didn't want her there, and she knew that, if she left him, she'd only feel worse. Why did he have to climb that wall? Why did he have to hurt himself?

The worst part was that Faith was pretty sure he would try something like that again. In her mind's eye Faith saw Chance stumble and imagined how hard it would be for her to catch him. Granted, she was usually the one who lifted the heavy things at work, and she did have a little more upper body strength than most of her girlfriends, but she doubted that it would be enough to hold Chance up and steady herself at the same time.

She continued in her useless hovering until Chance finally made it safely to the couch. Faith breathed an audible sigh of relief when he finally sat down, stiffly moving to a lying position. Faith had put the blanket and pillow back while he was in the bathroom, insistent in her mind that he would be comfortable.

Faith went to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl, spoon, milk, and the first box of cereal her fingers touched. Faith realized that she had yet to have her daily shower, and it felt odd not to have had it first thing in the morning. She wondered if it was prudent to leave Chance on his own while she went to wash up and felt a little mean leaving Chance on his own.

She brought everything into the living room, the four litre jug of milk hanging precariously from her pinkie and ring finger. Chance was looking a little less like he wanted to die, so Faith handed him the bowl and spoon and left the milk and cereal box in easy reach.

"Um. I'm going to have a shower…?" Faith said, posing her question more like a statement. This way she could still ask if he would be alright, but she didn't have to treat him like an invalid.

"Sure." Chance replied, a little disappointed. He'd gotten used to eating with her.

"Okay. I'll be back in a half hour or so." Faith hurried to her room, planning to shave at least ten minutes off of that time.

* * *

Faith went straight to the bathroom and stripped off her nightshirt. She turned on the shower and got into an icy cold stream, biting her lip and adjusting the temperature quickly before going about her business. She shampooed her hair, rinsed it and scrubbed in some conditioner. She let the conditioner sit in her hair while she soaped up and then stepped into the heavy stream of the shower, rinsing.

The first thing she did when she stepped out, dripping wet, was brush her teeth. Then she towelled off, combed her hair, and haphazardly waved the blow dryer around her head until it was just a little damp. She combed her hair again, forgetting in her rush that she'd already done it, and spread lip chap over her dry lips. She took a second to look and see if the damage done by her long-ago trip in the snow was still there and was pleased to see that her skin was back to normal.

Holding a towel around herself and leaving her pyjamas on the bathroom floor, Faith hurried to her bedroom and went through her wardrobe. She grabbed the first pair of underwear she saw and pulled them on, following them with her favourite pair of jeans and a bra. It took Faith a little longer to find a shirt that wasn't going to show off cleavage because the house was in the mood to torment her, but eventually Faith got her hands on a chocolate brown tank top that covered everything she wanted covered. She pulled on a yellow hoodie and a pair of socks with brown owls on them before glancing in the mirror. Faith combed through her bangs with her fingers and then went outside, convinced that Chance would be in dire need of help.

He was still munching on cereal and watching TV, content. Faith took a second to remind herself that Chance was a grown man and she was being irrational before she went to get a bowl for herself.

"That was fifteen minutes," Chance informed her with a grin.

"Really?" it took a second for Faith to realize that she was out of breath. She poured herself some cereal and tried to seem nonchalant. "Hm. I guess I'm faster then I thought."

"Guess so." Chance could smell her shampoo. It was fresh and clean. Chance tried not to make I obvious that he was smelling her, but he couldn't remember girls ever smelling this good before.

"What is this?" Faith asked, glancing at the TV. The familiar image of a butterfly in a bell jar flashed onscreen and she smiled. "Are you watching _Corpse Bride_?"

"Yes," Chance replied. While she was in the shower he'd managed to scuttle towards the TV and put in a DVD he knew she'd like, thanks to her posters and obvious reverence for all things Tim Burton. Chance didn't really think much of him, but if Faith liked something he was willing to give it a try.

Faith tried to hide her joyful nerdy face by leaving the room to get a bowl and spoon for herself. So as not to disturb Chance on the couch she perched on the arm and poured the cereal Chance hadn't yet demolished into her bowl, topped it up with milk. She tried to seem nonchalant while she glanced at Chance to check if he was in any pain.

Faith started to eat her breakfast, flicking her head to move her bangs from her eyes. She glanced at Chance again and decided that he looked a little better now than he had that morning. He met her gaze for a moment, his look telling her to please stop worrying, and Faith forced herself to look at the screen. Figures moved across the screen, flickering in shades of grey, but Faith couldn't force herself to concentrate.

* * *

Faith and Chance both tried to ignore the reason for Chance's injuries. Chance didn't bring them up because he didn't want Faith to worry enough to tell him to stop, and Faith still couldn't get her head around the fact that Chance cared about her enough to put himself in that sort of pain. She didn't want that, but she didn't know how to stop it.

Faith spent the rest of the day trying to make Chance comfortable. She saw to it that he was fed often enough and he always had pills at hand to pop like candy. She made sure he had enough to drink, that he wasn't too cold or hot, and that he always had something on the TV to keep him entertained. Sometimes she would watch the television with him, but Faith was getting restless. She didn't want to simply sit and watch all day. She wanted to do… _something_.

Chance sensed her restlessness, but no matter what he did he couldn't send her away for more than ten minutes. He would tell her that he didn't need anything so she would do something to keep busy. She checked emails, cooked, cleaned… but she always came back to Chance. After a while he would relent and ask for something, like a glass of water, and Faith would scurry away for it, happy to have something to do.

Chance knew that this was partly her worry for him, but he didn't like it. He wanted Faith to be happy. He didn't want her to be worried about him when it was his fault that she was trapped here to begin with.

* * *

"Shit,"

Chance had almost been asleep, but Faith's voice brought him back to reality. Chance glanced up to see Fait perched on the end of the couch. She was holding an empty Advil bottle in one hand and there were a few round pills on the floor at her feet. She left the couch and started to pick them up.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Faith glanced up apologetically. She looked away quickly, but not fast enough to hide the exhaustion in her face.

"Are you alright?" Chance repeated.

"Just a headache," Faith replied. She poured the spilt Advil back into the bottle, her hands clumsy.

"You look tired," Chance murmured.

"Mmm." Faith cleared her throat but said nothing more. She took two pills and swallowed them without water.

"I think you should get some rest," Chance replied.

"I will." Faith muttered. She put the Advil bottle back on the table, running a flat hand over her features as though she could simply wipe her exhaustion away.

"Now, Faith." Chance said, his voice quiet. Faith glared at him and he added, "You've been all over everything today, especially when its something for me. You need some sleep."

Faith sighed, looking down at her hands. She knelt next to the couch so that she was nearer to his eyelevel. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. She laced her fingers together and rested her elbows in the couch, her chin resting on her fingers.

Chance cleared his throat. "Why are you so worried about me?"

"… because you hurt yourself." Faith replied. She bit her lip thoughtfully and glanced into Chance's eyes. They were shockingly blue compared to their surroundings, and it was all Faith could do to look away.

"And you think I'll do it again?" Chance asked.

Faith took a deep breath. "It has crossed my mind, yes."

"… I promised you I wouldn't hurt myself again." Chance replied, keeping his voice steady. "Do you think I'd break that promise?"

"I don't know." Faith replied honestly. "What I do know is that you are stubborn, and you blame yourself for everything that's happened. And you want to get me home, which I do appreciate, but the… magic, or whatever the hell is going on in this house, can kick your ass no problem."

"Huh," Chance muttered, trying to keep his tone light. "I thought I was doing better than that."

Faith tried to smile, but her expression remained tired and unhappy. "I'm not going to get home as long as the house wants me here. There's only so much you can do."

"I just want to help you go home," Chance whispered.

"And how much are you willing to risk for that?" Faith asked. She unlinked her fingers from each other and reached out to take his hand. Chance tried to ignore the excited rhythm his heart began to beat when she touched him.

"Whatever it takes," Chance murmured. He ran his thumb along the back of her hand and felt his heart begin to slow.

Faith sighed, her eyes closing against frustrated tears. Letting go of Chance's hand, she moved from kneeling on the floor to sitting on the very edge of the couch cushion. "Why…?" was all she asked.

"`… Because I want you to be happy." Chance replied. "I don't want you to be worried about me…"

"Then don't give me reasons to be worried about you." Faith murmured. "And I'll be so much happier knowing that you aren't going to try anything foolish on my account."

Chance sat up, ignoring his protesting back, and Faith looked into his eyes again. Desperate to make her happy, willing to promise her anything, Chance murmured, "What about your family…?"

"It's not like I'll never hear from them again," Faith murmured. "There's always the internet… and they'll know that I love them, no matter what.."

"… and… everything else?" Chance asked.

"Everything else will go on without me." Faith replied. "Chance… the only thing that would make this unbearable is being alone."

Chance sighed. He wanted so badly to help her get back to her life, but he couldn't argue with her. He loved her too much. "Then… I won't try anything else."

Faith allowed herself a small smile. "Thank you."

Chance nodded, unable to speak. He expected Faith to go on to her room, but instead she put her arms around him, gently so that his back didn't even twinge in complaint. Faith ducked her head down so that her forehead rested on his chest. Chance's heart seemed to burst, and he put arm around her in response, using the other to steady himself in his sitting position. He pulled back first, scared that he would hurt Faith if he couldn't get his emotions in check and force his heart rate back into a normal range.

"What's wrong?" Faith asked. Chance winced painfully as he laid back on the couch. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't do anything." Chance breathed. "I'm just… tired. And you should get some rest. In your own bed this time, not on the floor." Faith didn't budge and her eyes remained glued to Chance's face. To displace her concern, he mumbled, "I'm fine. Its my own fault for sitting up."

"… Okay." Faith murmured, unconvinced. "Will you call me if you need something?"

"If you want me to." he replied.

"I do."

"Then I will."

"… Okay." Faith replied. She stood uncertainly, glancing around the room. It was perfectly organized, a victim of her restlessness.

"Goodnight, Faith." Chance murmured pointedly.

"Goodnight," Faith replied automatically. She offered him a little wave and then started towards her room.

"Sleep tight," Chance called after her.

"Same to you."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Faith paused and glanced back at him. He looked so helpless on the couch, a total opposite to the large, opposing creature she'd first met just four days ago. His strangeness had long since worn off, and now all Faith could see when she looked at him was the face of a friend.

"Do you want me to go or not?" she asked teasingly.

"Go," Chance murmured.

Faith did so, giving him one last wave before going into her own room. She left the door open so she could hear him if she needed to, changed into her nightshirt in the bathroom, and then went to bed. Faith pulled the thick blankets over herself and, despite her best intentions, fell fast asleep.

* * *

Chance put his hands over the spot where Faith had been sitting. He hadn't wanted to end their embrace, and he'd almost had the guts to tell her then how he felt about her… almost. Maybe, someday, he would be able to tell her that he loved her… and maybe, someday, Faith would be able to love him back.

Chance couldn't imagine anything better then that.


	16. Chapter 16

**Katie:** Sorry about the wait :)

**icecream&cake:** Thanks so much! I will keep writing as long as I've got it in me :)

**missanonymous:** What? Faith and Chance having meanings as names? No, whatever gave you that impression, besides the extremely obvious meanings of the names? Just joking :). Thanks for the review, I`m very glad you enjoyed it so far!

* * *

**Sixteen**

_There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered –_Nelson Mandela

Faith sat up, panicked, her face wet with tears. She was breathing heavily and her sheets were twisted around her legs. She'd had one of her nightmares.

Faith untangled the sheets from around herself and got up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. It was six in the morning, a Thursday. Faith tried not to think about the dream. Instead she went to the bathroom and had a quick shower, keeping the water cold to help her stay awake. She didn't want to go back to sleep again.

Faith towelled her hair dry and combed through it. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, trying to ignore the Goosebumps that covered her arms. She made her bed, tidied her room, did whatever she could think of to block out the nightmare. Once everything was set to right Faith picked up her iPod and went to the kitchen, first checking on Chance to see if he was alright. He was sleeping comfortably as far as she could tell, so Faith went quietly into the kitchen after setting out some water and pills in case he needed something for the pain.

Her chest was still tight from panic. Faith wondered how long it would take for her to start breathing normally. A piece of paper was laid out on the counter and coffee was brewing. Something to keep her awake and distracted. Faith mumbled a word of thanks under her breath and read over the paper. It was a recipe for made cinnamon buns topped with sweet icing.

This was exactly what she needed.

Faith plugged her headphones into her ears and turned to get what she needed and found that mixing bowls, measuring cups and ingredients were laid out for her. The coffee was also poured out into a mug. Faith took a sip and noticed that the perfect amount of sugar was mixed in, as though each and every single particle had been counted.

"Um… thanks, but I can really, _really_ handle things from here," Faith whispered.

The house didn't answer, but Faith decided that it would listen to her. She began to measure out the flour, mixing it with yeast, salt and sugar. Her bad dream faded away as Faith concentrated on the recipe. She mixed milk, water and butter into the floury concoction; she finally added eggs and a little more flour, spreading the white powder over the counter to knead the dough on.

Faith let her mind wander. She was all for women throwing off their prescribed gender roles to go and kick some ass, but she had always loved baking. Her mom had never been a good cook, and all her dad had been able to make were frozen pizzas. Faith had learned everything she knew of baking from her grandma, who could make a cake in ten minutes but had no idea how to make anything that didn't require sugar. Cooking for meals was something Faith had taught herself, and most of the time she could replicate whatever she wanted, though some of the more complicated things still eluded her.

Faith preheated the oven and waited the designated ten minutes for the dough to rise, doing the dishes to bide her time. Soon she was back to her dough. She rolled it out into a somewhat rectangular shape, buttered it, and spread the cinnamon and brown sugar mixture over the top. By now, Faith's chest had lost some of its tightness and she could breathe deeply without the alarming sensation that her lungs might explode. She rolled the dough into a long tube, cut it into thick sections, and began to set the uncooked cinnamon buns on a cookie sheet, spacing them evenly.

* * *

The first thing that wormed its way into Chance's sleepy consciousness was the delightfully fresh aroma of baking in the oven. Chance breathed deeply, greedily inhaling the tangy smell of cinnamon on brown sugar.

The next thing that Chance realized was that he was in a lot less pain. His back still pinched every now and again, but this was a hiccup compared to what he'd experienced in the last fourth eight hours. Chance sat up, marvelling at the lack of protest his back gave him. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to move around without supreme pain. The low table in front of the couch had a glass of water and a bottle of pills within easy reach. Chance reached for the former, ignoring the pills for now.

What he really, really wanted was a shower and a fresh change of clothes.

Chance stood, marvelling at the relative lack of pain, and made his way past the kitchen. Faith had her back turned to him as she cleaned the counter and he could see the cord of her iPod dangling. She would be too busy to notice his absence for the next couple minutes.

Chance walked quickly through the same hall that had seemed a mile long the day before and went into his room with a disturbingly cheerful attitude. He couldn`t remember the last time he`d felt so enthusiastic about a simple shower.

Out of habit, his mind went through a couple of negatives: he was ugly, he was a monster, he was this, he was that, but he caught himself after a moment and forced the unpleasant thoughts away. He hadn't been happy for a while, and he was determined to enjoy the strange emotion while he could.

* * *

Faith cleaned the kitchen until her cinnamon buns were ready. She hadn`t set a timer on the oven but glanced in to check on them every few minutes. Time was fickle, but she knew just by looking at them if the cinnamon buns were ready to come out or if they would be raw in the middle. When they were ready Faith donned a pair of oven mitts (they had been sitting inconspicuously off to the side, though she was entirely certain that she had asked the house to mind its own business for now) and pulled the tray of fresh cinnamon buns out, placing them gently on the counter.

Usually, Faith baked when she was craving something, and in the process of making whatever it was she fancied she ate half the dough raw and was sick of the confection before it was out of the oven. When baking from stress, Faith ate no dough and was surprisingly drawn to her own creations once they were ready.

Faith found two small plated and dished out the sticky warm buns, one for her and three for Chance. She turned off her iPod, touched it into her pocket, and made it to the door connecting the kitchen to the rest of the house, buns in hand, before Chance made an appearance.

Faith almost didn`t recognize him. He smelled of shampoo and soap, and his fur was settled neatly along his body, rather than in the tangled disarray that she was used to seeing it in. The longer bits on his head that seemed to serve as actual hair was swept back, obviously combed and gelled just a little to keep it that way. He was wearing dark wash denim jeans (brand new, by the looks of them) and a dark green button up shirt. He moved slowly with only the slightest hint that he was in any pain, and Faith could only tell that because she knew his gait so well.

Faith couldn't keep the surprise from her voice when she heard herself blabbing: "Holy crap, you look good."

Chance smiled, embarrassed by Faith's comments, but pleased that she had noticed the effort that he had put into his appearance. It seemed like an eternity since the last time he'd done his hair, or dressed with purpose, or simply showered just for the sake of showering.

"I just showered," he mumbled by way of explanation.

"Well..." Faith nearly blurted out, "you look way better than you usually do", but thought that it would be an easily misinterpreted remark. Instead, she asked, "How's your back?"

"Better." Chance inhaled deeply, basking in the smell of fresh baking. In order to remove the scrutiny from himself, he asked, "Are those ready?"

"Oh, yes."

The buns had been resting on their plates, tilted at dangerous angles in Faith's distraction. She placed them quickly on the kitchen table and moved to pull out Chance`s chair for him, but he got there first. He pulled the chair out without difficulty, sat, and slid the chair up to the table without incident. Faith stared at him while he did this, shocked by his progress. Hadn`t he been totally unable to walk just twenty-four hours earlier?

Faith sat stiffly in her own chair. She could feel the damage from a restless night resting heavy on her shoulders, but ignored it. She was happy to see Chance recovering, and she bit into her cinnamon bun without stopping to wonder about her mother. She refused to be worried all day. She wanted to have some fun.

Chance ate most of his first cinnamon bun in one bite, pausing to chew and savour the sweet taste before swallowing in order to take finish the rest. He said something along the lines of "this is really good" before grabbing another bun.

Faith tried to hide her smile. She didn't mean to be rude, but she watched Chance's face as he finished his second bun. She'd never seen him so… well… comfortable in his own skin. He was just being a regular guy, enjoying a regular cinnamon bun. She didn't know what had caused the change, cut she welcomed it. Chance deserved all the happiness he could get, and his comfort was infectious.

With thoughts of fear and cancer finally gone from her head, Faith finished her own cinnamon bun. Suddenly, she was glad to be awake. She wanted to do something, she wanted to breathe deeply and enjoy her day. She glanced towards the kitchen window, enjoying the comfortable silence while Chance tried to lick the icing from his fingers in an inconspicuous manor. A light snow was falling, nothing compared to the storm that had almost killed her an eternity ago.

"We should build a snowman!" Faith breathed, half lost in her own thought.

"A what?" Chance replied after a brief pause.

Faith was jerked back to reality. She felt a little silly for blurting her idea out, but her urge to build a snowman was still there. "A snowman," she murmured.

Chance stared at her for a moment. His childhood hadn't exactly been the stuff that fond memories were made of, and he couldn't recall ever making a snowman with friends or family. He'd once done a shoot with a winter motif and a snowman in the background, but it had been made of cardboard and he'd had no part in it.

"… Why?" he asked.

"Well because its fun…" Faith trailed off, suddenly unsure of her idea. "But we don't have to do it. If your back hurts, I mean…"

"No, no." Chance interrupted her at once. He liked the idea of doing something with her, something… fun. "I… just… I've never made one before."

"You never built a snowman before?" Faith repeated.

"No. Never got around to it," Chance replied, "But I think it would be fun."

"Oh, it will be!" Faith replied. She stood, excited now for her idea, and cleaned up after herself. "I can't believe you never made on before. Its, like, a rite of passage."

"I missed out on a couple rites of passage when I was a kid." Chance replied. He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in it.

"… oh," Faith murmured. She'd never heard Chance speak of his family before, and she'd wondered now and again at his past. How could someone like him exist so utterly alone? Obviously he'd had a mother at some point: how could she abandon Chance, knowing that he would be so utterly alone?

"I can't exactly blame my family, though." Chance added as an afterthought. "I was always an asshole, even as a kid. My family tried to include me but I pushed them away… eventually, if you push something hard enough, it's going to give, or push back." He cleared his throat, glancing apologetically at Faith. "They pushed back."

"… so… they just left you alone?" Faith asked.

"It's a little more complicated than that, but, in a nutshell…" Faith stopped in her cleaning to look at him. Chance stood with his plate and started towards the sink.

"That's horrible," Faith murmured. She couldn`t imagine anyone pushing Chance away. Sure, he had his moments, but so did anyone else. Making a few mistakes didn`t mean he should be shunned by his family.

His next words nearly broke her heart.

"No. I deserved it. I've always been… well… a beast, even from the beginning." He grinned sadly at his choice in words. "I'm a selfish bastard. People are going to get tired of me eventually. My problem is, I'm just starting to realise what an ass I've been."

Faith spoke softly, her voice so low that Chance might not have heard it if he hadn't been listening for it. "I don't think you're selfish, Chance. And I don't think you're an ass." Chance glanced towards her. He almost expected her expression to be one of mockery, but her face was smooth, honest.

"Uh..." Chance cleared his throat, searching for words. "... Thanks."

"You`re welcome." Faith answered. There was an awkward silence while she wiped down the dishes, dried them, and put them away. Finally she murmured, "I'll go get my jacket and things, then we'll see about building the most kick-ass snowman ever."

"Sounds like a plan," Chance replied, glad to be back in safe subject matter.

* * *

"What do you think of Faith going off to Florida with some friend we've never met?" Faith's mother and father lay side by side in bed. She had a Stephen King novel open on her lap, he had a golf magazine open on his.

"Mmm." Faith's father cleared his throat and turned a page. "She should be utilizing this time for studying."

"Oh, come off it. You know she needs a break every once and a while." Her mother replied, smiling faintly.

"Then why are we talking about it?"

"Because... I don't like my baby going off to foreign countries without me." Faith's mother sighed and marked her place in her book, putting it on the bedside table.

"Okay, one, the United States isn't a foreign country. It's Canada without all the snow." Faith's father muttered, flipping back to an interesting article. "Two, she's old enough to fend for herself."

"I know that. I just wish... you know... that she could fend for herself while I supervised."

"If you don't back off and let her do her own thing, she'll be one of those weird forty year olds that lives with her parents and paints ceramic cats." Faith's father replied, grinning at his own humour.

"I don't see the problem with that." Faith's mother replied. She rolled on her side and nearly went to sleep before she remembered the date. She rolled back onto her back and started her monthly self-exam, running her fingertips quickly over her right breast.

"I can help with that," her husband offered.

"No, thanks, I've got it..." she trailed off as her fingers brushed over something disquieting.

"I probably know them better than you do."

"Shh," slowly, hoping that she'd imagined it, she felt again, starting at her armpit and tracing along the entire breast. Sure enough, just as she'd feared, it was there: a lump.

"I'm just saying: we could multitask. Cancer awareness and foreplay, all rolled into one..." Faith's father grinned and turned to face his wife. His smile was lost the moment he saw her expression. "What?"

"... I found a lump..." She replied softly, her voice tempered with fear.

"... It can't be what you think it is, though." His voice was unsure despite his effort. "I mean, twice in a lifetime?"

"Its probably nothing..." Faith's mother replied, her voice unsure. "But just in case... I'll call the doctor tomorrow. Just in case."

"Yeah," Her husband replied, his magazine forgotten. He turned over and turned off the light, though he would not sleep a wink now. "Just in case..."

* * *

AN: Sorry guys, just giving you a short update you you know I`m alive. I`ll add another chapter soon, I promise!


	17. Chapter 17

**Seventeen**

_Life isn't a matter of milestones but a matter of moments –_Rose Kennedy

Chance didn't take long to get ready. He threw on a light jacket, snuck back to the kitchen for another cinnamon bun, and then tidied the living room while he waited for Faith. He was unexpectedly excited. After being cooped up in the house for so long, it would be nice to get out… and spending time with Faith only sweetened the deal.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Chance heard her footsteps skip lightly along the hallway to the living room. He turned in time to see her skid to a stop, clad only in her brown pea coat, not two feet from him.

"Um, weird question, but suddenly the magic in this house isn't being very cooperative but I feel the need to impose…" She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you have a pair of mitts, a scarf, and a hat?"

"Oh…" Chance remembered her close scrape with the cold, and understood her concern. He shook his head apologetically, sliding his large hands into the pockets of his jacket. "No, I..." he paused, feeling something soft in his pockets, and withdrew a knitted set of pink gloves and matching hat from one pocket, and a yellow scarf from the other. "… apparently I do."

"Thanks." Faith murmured.

Chance passed her the gloves and teased, "So you never thought to search my pockets? Noob."

"No, actually." Faith blushed slightly and reached for the hat once her gloves were on. She pulled it over her ears and Chance marvelled at how cute she looked. "Next time I'll specify that I want my magical items to be left out in the open."

"The house still likes you better than me." Chance reminded her, secretly pleased that he could play the hero on this one. Before Faith could reach for the scarf he moved to wind it around her neck, causing her blush to deepen ever so slightly.

"... I could do that myself, you know." She mumbled.

"I know. I just want to make sure you stay warm," Chance replied, grinning.

Faith rolled her eyes and pulled back. "Are you ready to build the most kick-ass snowman the world has ever known?"

"I think so." He waited for her to put on her uggs at the front door and then followed her out into the snow.

* * *

In comparison to the house, the outdoors were sparkling, clean, and white. The sun reflected off of the undisturbed snow, causing both Faith and Chance to shield their eyes. After a moment Chance moved his hand from his eyes and squinted both sets of eyelids and glanced down at Faith, who was peering up at him through her eyelashes, still shielding her eyes with her arm.

"We need to get out more often," She muttered.

"Apparently." Chance replied. "You didn't think to get a pair of sunglasses to go with everything else?"

"I don't even think to bring a hat or mitts in the dead of winter. Why would I have he forethought to ask for sunglasses?" Faith asked, smiling in spite of herself.

Chance reached into his pocket, guessing that he could play the hero again. He guessed right and handed a pair of sunglasses to faith – pink, to match her hat. "Good thing you have me."

"Thanks." Faith put them on and looked around. "But what about you?"

"I'll be fine." His eyes were already adjusting to the light, and Chance wasn't squinting anymore. "Well, let's get this party started."

"Indeed."

* * *

Faith picked the spot for their snowman. She made a snowball and started rolling it while Chance followed suit. Chance's snowball became the base for their snowman and he started a new one while Faith's was soon too big for her to roll anymore. She struggled with it for about thirty seconds before Chance lifted it with ease and put it on top of his.

Soon they had three balls stacked. Faith started sculpting a face on the ball that served as a head while Chance found two sticks for arms. They used a carrot for the nose and bottle caps for eyes. After a brief discussion on the merits of a piece of liquorice for the mouth verses drawing it on with food colouring they chose the food colouring. Chance painted it on while Faith smoothed the two balls they had used for the body until they looked less like the bulky body of a snowman and more like a human profile.

After about two hours they stood back to look at their work. The snowman didn't look anything like the kind typically found in a child's back yard. It looked a little more like...

"It looks like the Joker from Dark Knight," Faith blurted out, laughing. "Like he got old and bald..."

"You're the one who wanted to use red food colouring for the mouth," Chance replied, pretending to be offended by her comment. Secretly, he was pleased with the way the snowman had turned out... and even more pleased that he had been able to make it with her.

"Yes but you're the one who put it on like he's a penny hooker." Faith snickered out.

"I happen to think it looks awesome," Chance muttered.

"Oh, it does. It's just missing something..." Faith paused, stepped back, and studied their creation. After a few seconds she pulled off her scarf and hat and moved towards the snowman.

"What are you doing?" Chance asked.

"I'm giving him some personality." She wrapped the scarf around the snowman's neck and pulled the knit hat over its head. She stepped back and admired her work. "There."

"... Now he looks like a crazy bag lady." Chance teased.

"That's because of the crazy lipstick you gave him. But I like him." Faith replied. "Let's give him a name."

"Jim-Bob." Chance suggested.

"What kind of name is that?" Faith asked.

"A cool one." Chance grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "He looks like a Jim-Bob to me."

"... Jim-Bob..." Faith mused. "Now that you mention it, it does kind of fit him..."

"Exactly."

"Well, we've accomplished out goal. We now have a kick-ass snowman with a weird name. Our lives are complete."

"Not quite," Chance replied.

"Oh, okay. What else is required to make our lives-"

Because Faith had been looking at the snowman, she hadn't noticed that Chance had backed away and inconspicuously gathered enough snow together to make a large snowball, which he had aimed at her lower back. It had met its mark, and it was enough of a surprise to make her cry out. Chance grinned and pretended that he hadn't done anything.

"Oh my god, you ass!" Faith cried. She started making her own snowball.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Chance warned playfully.

"Oh, no?"

"No. I'm going to win no matter what."

"I'd like to see you try." Faith replied, and she lobbed her snowball. It struck him square in the chest.

"Oh, I see. You think you can beat this?" Chance started another snowball.

"I do." Faith made hers quicker and threw it at his head. She missed, and as a consequence of trying to run away, got a snowball right in the ass.

"I told you, you can't beat me!" Gloating got Chance a snowball in the neck.

Soon they were throwing and dodging too much to carry on a conversation. Chance let Faith hit him a few times and missed every once and a while just so he could see her victorious smile. His snowballs were bigger than hers and packed more of a punch, though he was making a conscious effort not to make them too big. Hers exploded into a fine powder and Chance could barely feel them through his jacket.

Eventually Chance stopped throwing snowballs in favour of chasing Faith around. She screamed and laughed, but usually managed to get away from him and throw a snowball at him before he could get his own ammo.

Chance had never had so much fun, had never been so carefree, and had never been so in love. Faith hid behind the snowman and he knocked the head off it in an attempt to catch her, throwing up a spray of snow. He had kept is pace slower than he was capable of in the beginning, just so she could get away, but he was kicking it up a notch now. He wanted to catch her.

Faith stopped to make a snowball and Chance did the same, throwing it hard and fast. It caught her in the back of the head and exploded, covering Faith in snow. She screamed and dropped her own snowball and tore off her gloves in favour of brushing it away with bare hands.

"OH MY GOD!"

She laughed and tried to dislodge the snow from her collar, but by now Chance had closed the distance between them and he growled playfully, grabbing her in a huge bear hug. Faith screamed and giggled, struggling to get away, but Chance held her tightly.

"HA! Got you!"

"You ass, the snow is melting in my coat!"

Faith laughed, pushing away, but it did no good. Chance held her about three feet above the ground and spun around with her in his arms. Her sunglasses were askew, but there was a carefree joy in her dark eyes. Faith had never seen Chance so happy and she threw her arms around her neck, trying to ignore the sensation of snow and ice water running down her back.

Looking into her eyes, Chance wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He resisted the temptation, though, and placed Faith gently on the ground. "Are you okay?" he asked, trying to ignore the pull he felt to have her in his arms again.

"Yeah, just cold," Faith replied. She glanced back at their newly headless snowman. "Oh my god, you killed Jim-Bob!"

"He wasn't long for this world anyway." Chance replied, smiling.

"Yeah, I guess not." Faith tried and failed to dig the snow from where it was lodged against the flesh of her neck. "Do you mind if we go inside for a bit? I need to get this snow out."

"No, not at all." Chance knelt to retrieve one of her gloves, which had fallen to the ground in their excitement. "Sorry about getting it in your coat."

"Don't worry about it." Faith waited for him to stand before heading back to the house. "That was awesome."

"I thought so, too," Chance replied. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and he followed closely behind.

* * *

They had spent the better part of the day outside, although it felt like they had been gone for mere minutes. The sun was beginning to set as they got back inside the house, and Chance retired to the living room while he waited for Faith to change into something that wasn't covered in snow.

Chance smiled to himself as he thought of the day they had spent together, barely able to contain his joy at having been so close to Faith. Being able to pick her up and hold her in his arms, and having her wrap her arms around his neck, was the greatest gift he could ever imagine.

* * *

Faith undressed quickly, letting her cold clothes fall into a heap on the floor. A pair of purple sweat pants and a black sweater was lying across her bed and she grabbed them, pulling them on over her goose-pimpled skin.

After running a comb through her hair Faith made her way back to the living room, suddenly tired from a day of activity. She sat next to Chance on the couch, glad to see him despite the fact that she had only been away from him for a few moments.

"That was fun," Chance murmured.

"Yeah," Faith replied. She leaned against him, grateful for his body heat. "How's your back?"

"Fine," Chance answered. Sensing the reason for her nearness, he asked, "Are you cold?"

"A little," Faith admitted.

After a moment's hesitation, Chance wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "Is that better?" he asked.

"Yes," Faith murmured.

Had she been a little less tired, she might have thought this inappropriate. As things stood, she was simply grateful for his closeness. They sat quietly for a few moments. Faith was close to drifting off to sleep and her head came to rest on Chance's shoulder. Chance would have been content to sit like that forever but his stomach suddenly growled loud enough to make Faith's eyes snap open.

"... are you hungry?" she asked, suppressing a smile.

"Apparently," Chance replied, utterly embarrassed. He realized that he hadn't eaten since the cinnamon buns at breakfast and cursed his stomach for making him aware of that fact.

"Want me to make something for supper?" Faith offered.

"No," Chance replied. "You don't need to make supper every time I get hungry."

"I like cooking," Faith promised. She sat up straight and Chance's arm fell away. Her shoulders suddenly felt cold. "Did you have any requests?"

"... We could always order pizza." Chance suggested. "Pizza and a movie."

"Order pizza?"

"... well... ask the house for some pizza..." Chance clarified. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Can we get some pizza over here, please?"

"I thought the house never listened to you." Faith muttered.

"Usually, it never listens to me. But every once and a while I catch a break." Chance replied. He put his arm around her again and pulled her close. "Just wait." Secretly grateful to sink back into his warm embrace, Faith decided that making supper could wait until Chance realized that pizza wasn't going to just appear on the coffee table.

At that moment, a large pizza appeared on the coffee table.

"What the hell?" Faith gasped. She'd used the magic enough to come to the conclusion that it never worked out in the open. It worked while your back was turned, or made something appear in your pockets. It didn't deliver pizza.

"I told you," Chance replied. He leaned forward, pulling her with him, and took a slice with his free hand. "I was kind of hoping for Hawaiian, but I'll settle for this."

Faith took her own piece. "This place never gets old."

On its own accord, the TV turned itself on and started to play _Dark Knight_. Faith glanced at Chance but he only grinned through a mouthful of pizza. The house had never played along so well, and he was grateful that it was letting him spend this day with Faith the way he wanted to. This was one of the first days he could remember that being a Beast hadn't bothered him in the slightest. He actually was beginning to enjoy some of the things that came with this body.

* * *

Faith fell asleep after the first hour of the movie, despite the noise coming from the TV. She cuddled close to Chance in her sleep until they were both lying across the couch. Faith's head was on his chest and his arms were around her, keeping her warm. The TV turned off as the movie hit the end credits, and the lights in the house followed suit, flicking off one by one. Soon Chance was holding Faith in complete darkness, and she was fast asleep on his chest.

Chance remained awake, listening to the rhythm of their breathing. Soon they breathed in sync, and Chance felt Faith clutch the fabric of his shirt in his sleep. He tightened his grip on her, suddenly struck by how deeply he loved her. He knew that she was asleep, but spoke anyways.

"Faith?"

Of course she didn't respond.

Chance waited a long moment, and then spoke quietly, his voice a low growl. "Thank you for this. Today was the best day of my life."

* * *

AN: I needed to give them a fun day out in the snow... I couldn't deny the cuteness.


	18. Chapter 18

Reiko Rose: Thanks so much! Yeah, most Beauty and the Beast fics end the same way and mine probably won't be any different (unless I suddenly get pissed and kill everyone)... but I try to be unique in my angsty goodness :)

sueariel: Spanks!

**Eighteen**

_I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not –_Robert Green Ingersoll

* * *

Faith woke briefly during the night when she tried to roll over but could not. She had not made it all the way to consciousness, but she realized that someone was holding her, and that was what prevented her from shifting positions.

Without thinking Faith lifted her sleeping partner's arm and rolled so that her back was to him, letting his arm fall back across her ribs. Her own hand came to rest on his, holding it in place. Faith felt fur on the hand that lay bellow her own, but fell asleep before she could realize who she was snuggled up against.

* * *

Chance woke with Faith still in his arms, but she had rolled during the night so that her back was to him and her arm held his so that it wrapped securely around her ribcage. He smiled as he recalled their day before, cuddling closer for a moment to remind himself that this was real.

He thought about staying where he was until Faith woke up, imagining her reaction. He knew her well enough to dismiss the idea that she would be scared, but he worried that she might be confused. After one last second of holding her close Chance released Faith's sleeping form and stood, leaving Faith to sleep on the couch. He got her a blanket so that she wouldn't feel the change his absence caused in temperature. She was still fast asleep and did not make a sound when he covered her with the blanket.

This was a switch. Usually Faith was the one who woke first to take care of him. Chance toyed with the idea of waking her and rejected it. He wanted her to be able to sleep as long as she wanted, and he wanted to do something to surprise her when she woke up...

Suddenly, Chance got a brilliant idea: he would make pancakes.

* * *

Faith woke to the sound of cursing. She tried to ignore it at first but, after listening to it for about ten minutes, she rolled over to find it's source... and promptly fell off the couch with a loud "thump". Her eyes snapped open and Faith glanced around, surprised to find herself in the living room. The cursing had stopped and Chance glanced out of the kitchen, hoping that the thump hadn't woken Faith. When he realised that it _was_ Faith he rushed to kneel at her side.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"... I think so," Faith replied. She tried to get up on her own but Chance scooped her up and placed her back on the couch before she could do so much as sigh. "What's happening in the kitchen? You're cursing like a sailor."

"... sorry." Chance rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I... uh... was trying to make you some breakfast."

"... you never learned from the incident with the lasagne, did you?" Faith asked with a smile.

"I never learn from my mistakes." Chance replied.

Faith noticed a smear of something caught in the fur on Chance's cheek. "What's that on your face?"

Chance rubbed his face self-consciously. "Batter, probably. That mixer is possessed."

"Electric mixers usually are possessed." Faith agreed. "That's why I usually mix by hands." She sat up and grabbed Chance's hand before he could smear the batter any further. "Here, let me get it."

Chance's heart worked overtime as her fingers gently touched his face. Before Faith could fix anything he put his hand overtop hers and enclosed it in his fist. "Don't worry about it," he murmured. "I'll clean up afterwards."

Faith was about to say something when the smoke detector went off. Chance swore and ran back into the kitchen, his footsteps thumping heavily.

"You shouldn't leave things unattended on the stove," Faith called after him.

"Apparently not," came his reply.

"Want some help?"

"No."

"Do I have time for a shower before breakfast?"

"Sure. Go for it."

* * *

Faith felt totally relaxed. She took her time in the shower, humming as she washed her hair. She didn't bother with doing hair or make-up. Instead, she simply towelled most of the moisture from her hair, ran her fingers through it, and went into her room to get dressed. Usually, Faith spent her time alone thinking of her family and wishing that she could go back to them. Today she was remembering how much fun she had had the day before.

Faith pulled on a pair of jeans and a brown sweater, eager to go back and investigate the adventure that Chance was having in the kitchen. She smiled to herself as she remembered their embrace in the snow... and the strange dream that she had had the night before.

She only remembered a snippet of the dream: the sensation of being warm, and cuddling up against someone. Faith tried to remember who she had dreamt about, but could not. Her mind nagged at her to name him but she put it from her head. It had only been a dream, after all.

Faith flicked her bangs from her eyes and went back to the kitchen. She'd been prepared for... _something, _but what she saw made her gasp out loud.

Batter was smeared halfway around the counter and the mixer was tipped on its side, letting what was left of the batter drip out across the counter and onto the floor. A pile of half decent pancakes were on a plate and there was one shoved off to the side, burnt beyond repair. Piles of dishes were stacked in the sink and there was a light dusting of flour over most of them.

Chance was setting the kitchen table, ignoring the bedlam he had created. There were a few more smears of batter on his person as well as a fine dusting of flour on his arms, but he was managing the table-setting without any issues.

"... Wow..." Faith breathed, catching his attention. "This is..."

"I'm blaming the house for this," Chance muttered apologetically, dropping knives and forks onto plates with a clatter. "Because I had the mixer on low, I swear, and I hadn't even turned on the stove when that one pancake caught fire."

Faith could not conceal her smile. "But it looks like you managed to get a few of them out in edible condition."

"That remains to be decided," Chance replied. He pulled out a chair for her. "So... is this okay for breakfast?"

"Sure." Faith sat in the offered sear and waited while he brought the pancakes over. "So... you were trying to make me breakfast?"

"Trying would be the operative word there," Chance replied.

"Well I think you succeeded." Faith replied, helping herself to the topmost cake. Chance took his seat and held his breath while she cut in and took a bite. After what seemed like an eternity of chewing Faith swallowed and said, "Perfect."

Chance sighed in relief and took five. "Good. I was under the impression that they might be deadly."

"Far from it," Faith replied, discreetly pulling one of Chance's hairs from her pancake and dropping it on the floor. "In fact... you might just have a career here."

Chance snorted, dousing his pancakes with syrup. "Yeah. Right."

* * *

After breakfast Chance went to have a shower and Faith stayed behind to clean up the kitchen. She had promised him that she would wait and let him help, but she'd never been one for following instructions. Anyways, the house did most of the work, causing this or that to disappear or right itself when she wasn't looking, but Faith wasn't too pleased with it.

"I don't know why you're so much nicer to me than you are to him," She muttered into the air while she cleaned batter off the counter. "You should listen to him just as much as you do me. Yesterday was nice, but it doesn't help when you just go back to being an ass-hat the next day."

The house did not respond, of course, but Faith got the impression that it was ashamed of itself. "From now on," Faith added, "You do as he says the first time, every time, the way it should be done. Okay?"

The house didn't reply, but Faith decided that she'd been heard.

* * *

Faith's mother had gotten a last-minute appointment for Friday morning. She endured the mammogram, once while they found the general area of the lump, and again while they got in closer to examine the tissue. She held back tears as the machine crushed her breast, praying at the same time that it was a benign cyst, or the result of getting old, anything but cancer.

As luck would have it, her doctor was out of town until Monday, and the x-ray tech had no power to prove or dispel the idea of cancer. Unfortunately, she would have to wait.

* * *

The kitchen was back to normal by the time Chance got back from the shower. Again Faith was struck by how different he looked. She'd noticed the difference yesterday, too, but it wasn't just because of the shower. Maybe because she was used to seeing him in pain, or in a bad mood, or with his fur tangled up to hell. She couldn't quite explain it to herself, but it was almost like... he was more... _there_ after a shower. He looked better, and he certainly smelled better, but it was more than a hygienic difference. It was as though he was becoming more... human.

"You were supposed to wait for me to help," Chance growled, feigning anger.

"I was never really one for following orders," Faith admitted. She went back to washing the dishes, rinsing off the plate that she'd just scrubbed clean.

"Well let me finish." Chance replied.

"No."

"I mean it," Chance warned her. Faith heard the linoleum beneath them creak quietly as Chance took a step towards her.

Faith grinned. "So do I."

"Hmm." Chance muttered. "Well, you asked for it."

"Asked for what?" Faith asked.

Instead of replying, Chance bent down to wrap his arms around her waist, his head coming to rest on her left shoulder. Faith dropped her dish the moment she realised what was going on, but before she could fight back she was lifted into the air. Her arms came to rest over his, her fingers wrapped tightly around his for stability.

"Put me down!" Faith did her best to sound convincing, but she couldn't keep the surprised laughter from her voice.

"Not unless you start following orders," Chance replied.

"Never!" Faith cried. She thought about struggling and rejected the idea since Chance was so much stronger. Besides, she kind of liked the safe feeling she got from being in his arms, and she definitely liked their snappy "arguments". Chance was much more fun when he was happy, and his joy was infectious.

"Fine then."

Chance turned away from the sink and shifted Faith quickly, so gentle that she might not have noticed it if she hadn't been paying attention, so that she was lying somewhat vertically in his arms. Her feet dangled out on Chance's right side and his left arm cushioned her shoulders. Faith wrapped her left arm around Chance's neck to keep herself steady, discreetly breathing in the fresh smell of his shampoo. With Faith securely in his arms Chance spun around once, moving quite freely despite his burden, to make her smile. It was almost as though he wasn't carrying anything at all, and Faith would have been impressed if she wasn't used to his strength.

"Not fair," Faith muttered, gently smacking his chest with her free hand. "You have freakish strength on your side. I can't compete with that."

"Oh, I think you can," Chance replied with a grin. Their faces were very close, and Faith couldn't help smiling back when he looked down at her. "You have your feminine powers."

"Such as?"

"Smelling nice. Looking pretty. Being smarter than me." Chance replied, squeezing her body closer to his chest for a moment. After a pause, he added, "Being yourself."

"... Well..." Faith tried to think of something clever to say but couldn't. She found herself staring into Chance's eyes, lost in a blue abyss. She had just enough consciousness to realize her distraction and wondered at its cause. She had known Chance for... what? Five days in person, and she didn't know how long on the computer.

Somehow, the dynamic of their relationship was changing. Chance was no longer miserable, no longer afraid that she would fear him, no longer in pain. They knew each other well enough by now to be over the awkward beginning of friendship, but never ceased to entertain one another. They cared about one another as friends, but somehow it went deeper than that. When Faith looked into Chance's eyes she felt something different, something she didn't feel with any of her other friends, something that she had never felt before... and she could tell from his gaze that Chance was experiencing the same thing.

Suddenly Faith realised that they were close enough to kiss, if they really wanted too... and that they might have, if they were different people under different circumstances. Faith didn't have too much experience with romance, but she was pretty sure that being held like she was, and being as close to Chance as she was, was borderline romantic.

Chance had long since gone silent. He was just beginning to realise how much their relationship had shifted in such a short time. It had gone from a simple friendship, formed at first from the magic of the internet and second from the necessity of close quarters, to something much more meaningful.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Chance compared his beast-self to his human-self. In human form he would have gone from holding his girlfriend of the day in his arms to ravaging her in an instant. He would never have taken the time to look into her eyes, as he was doing now with Faith. He would never have taken the time to enjoy a single soft, sweet kiss, as he suddenly longed to do now.

Chance almost did it. He was about to close the distance between their faces in one swift, forceful movement when he realised that to do so would be risking everything. If he forced anything on her... if he did anything to betray her trust... their relationship would be destroyed.

He couldn't risk that.

Faith saw something pass over Chance's face, but it was gone before she could identify it. She was about to ask what he was thinking when he released her, feet first, so that she was standing under her own power again with her back to him. Faith was surprised by this anti-climactic end to their spat and, though she wasn`t a mind reader, she knew that Chance had gone to the negative place in his head again.

"What's wrong?" She asked, turning back to face him.

"What makes you think that something is wrong?" Chance asked.

"Just a feeling," Faith replied. She waited for him to explain himself and, when no explanation came, she tried to go back to doing dishes. She hoped that Chance would pick up the fight again, and she was not disappointed.

"What did I just say about following orders?" Chance asked, pulling her back by the collar of her sweater.

"Dunno. Don't care." She replied, grinning. She might know what had gotten him down, but she certainly knew how to get him back to his happy place.

Her attitude got the desired effect. Chance wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back from the sink. She screamed a little, just for effect, but Faith was having too much fun to mean it.

"Give it up," Chance growled.

"Never!"

"Do you want me to lock you up somewhere?" Chance asked.

"No!"

"Well then I suggest that you-" Chance was cut off suddenly when he heard something coming from the other room. He released Faith from his arm and half-turned towards the door to the kitchen. "... What was that?"

"... What was what?" Faith asked. In a second the sound repeated, and she could detect a familiar melody. It paused after a few seconds and then began again, and by now Faith could identify it as David Bowie singing Changes.

"... Is what a radio?" Chance asked.

"No... I..." Faith took a deep breath as something akin to nervousness rushed through her heart. "I think that's my ring tone..."

"You said you had no service here," Chance replied.

"I didn't..."

Faith started towards her room with Chance close behind her. Faith didn't understand why but she felt on edge, almost afraid. Why was her phone suddenly working? Why was someone calling her, when she was supposed to be in Florida sometime in the next 24 hours? Why was she so panicked?

Chance didn't know what to feel, but he was on his guard. He didn't want to keep Faith from her friends and family against her will, so this improvement should have made him happy... but it only served to bother him. He wouldn't actively keep Faith from speaking to her loved ones, but he didn't like it. He wanted her to be happy with him, and she couldn't do that if she had people constantly calling to remind her that she could never leave.

Faith dug through her purse for a moment before finding the phone. She checked the caller display and was surprised to see that it was her dad's cell phone number. He almost never called her. She flicked the phone open and answered it apprehensively.

"Dad? Hi..."

Chance couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but he knew something was wrong as he watched Faith's face. Her eyebrows drew close together and she bit down on her lower lip as she listened.

"She found a lump? Are you sure?" there was a pause and she put her free hand to her chest, over her heart. "What do you mean, you don't know yet? Hasn't she had a mammogram...?" another pause, and Faith fell onto her bed. "Monday? Is she panicking...?" another pause and she began to cry. "Let me talk to her... what do you mean, she can't?"

Horrified, Chance sat next to her on the bed, ignoring its indignant creak. He wrapped his arm around Faith and silently held her as she cried into the phone, listening to her father.

"Sleeping pills? Are you nuts? You can't just medicate her until you find out, especially if it is... come down there? Now?"

Chance felt her stiffen, felt the panic as it tore through her muscles. He held Faith still as she bordered on hysteric.

"I can't right now! ... of course she's more important than my trip, dad. I just... dad, please... please understand, I just can't..." there was a long pause, and Faith bowed her head as her father came close to breaking down in tears. "Ok. I'll try. Bye."

She closed the phone and cried quietly. Chance held her against his chest. A tear broke free from his eyes and rolled down his cheek, unnoticed. After a long time Faith gave up on trying not to cry and let herself sob, burying her face in Chance's chest. He held her tighter, glad that he could offer at least this hollow comfort.

"I think my mom has cancer," She finally moaned, her words hardly recognizable.

"I heard," was all Chance could say.

"What am I going to do now?" Faith asked. "I can't leave. I can't see her... what if it spreads? What if she's dying?"

Chance replied, "I don't know, Faith. I'm so, so, sorry... I just don't know."

* * *

**AN: **and we go from happy to shit in ten seconds flat...


	19. Chapter 19

Reiko Rose: Sorry, I'm not trying to make you crazy! I'll wrap that all up as soon as I can, I promise!

* * *

**Nineteen**

_Death is feared as birth is forgotten __–_Doug Horton

It seemed like an eternity before Faith stopped crying, although her tears only lasted an hour. She remained in Chance's arms long after her tears dried, silently wondering what her mother had done to deserve a second fight for her life.

Chance couldn't think of anything to say. He wanted to tell Faith that everything would be alright but he knew that it wouldn't. Things weren't set in stone yet, but if her mother did, in fact, have cancer, Faith needed to be with her. Lying wasn't an option anymore, not when there were consequences like this. If, god forbid, her mother did have cancer... if she was going to die, Faith deserved the chance to see her one more time.

Chance wracked his brain, trying to find a way that he could help Faith get back to her family. He had already tried scaling the wall and had nearly killed himself. He had promised Faith that he would never do it again... but he considered it anyways. Maybe, if he was a little more careful, he could get over...

He was willing to risk his own safety in an instant, but could he say the same of Faith? Would she want him to put himself in danger, just so she could get home? If she hadn't been so silent up until this point, Chance might have asked, but he didn't want to draw her into a discussion of whether or not he should attempt climbing once more.

And even if he did succeed... that would he do then? If he didn't have Faith around to keep him sane, what would? He couldn't go back to chatting with random bimbos in cyber space, or watching TV all the time. He couldn't go back to a life without Faith. Life had no meaning without her.

_She would come back to visit,_ Chance told himself, but he rejected the idea at once. If he ever managed to get Faith back home, he couldn't let her come back. She would only be trapped again. Visiting would never be an option. So... what then? Chance supposed that he would have to make do with emails and instant messages. Impersonal text would be torture compared to all of the one-on-one time that they had spent together, but at least it was something.

Chance thought about talking to Faith about school, friends, boyfriends... and, as time went on, fiancés and husbands... eventually, whether she wanted to or not, she would leave him behind.

Chance thought of how wonderful the day before had been, and of how wonderful this day had started out. How could he possibly go back to pissing away his time when he had memories like that to compare his days to? How could he live with himself, knowing that the only person that he had ever truly loved was gone forever?

Chance had two options here. First, he could just let things stay as they were. Faith would be trapped with him forever. He could see her every minute of every day, if he wanted to. Maybe her mother would die, but everyone's parents died eventually. She would get over it... maybe, with a total lack of options, she might even com to care for him half as much as he cared for her. Maybe she would even fall in love with him and break the spell. Then they would both be free, and he would be happy.

Or... he could do everything in his power to send Faith home, as he had once promised himself that he would. He could have just a short time left with Faith before she was gone forever, and after that he would have to cut off contact completely. If he didn't speak to her, she would forget him faster. If she forgot him, she would remain free. Life would be meaningless, but at least Chance would know that he had done the right thing for Faith.

His decision was painful, but he had known all along what his choice would be. Chance loosened his hold on Faith and found that she had fallen asleep, exhausted from her sorrow. Her crying had started up again, perhaps brought on by a dream, and her cheeks were wet with tears.

Chance laid Faith across her bed, gently brushing the tears from her face. He sat next to her for a few minutes, memorizing her features. Her long eyelashes, black to match her hair, were damp from her tears. Her lips were slightly parted, chapped from crying. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, though she looked paler, more fragile, than usual. Her bangs lay in messy chunks across her forehead, and Chance took a second to set them to rights, running his palm across her smooth forehead.

He wished that he could wake her up. He wished that he was brave enough to tell her just how much she meant to him. He wished that he could tell her that he loved her more than anything. He wished that he could tell her that he would die without her. Most of all, he wished that he could ask her, beg her, even, to stay.

Instead he bent silently over her sleeping form and kissed her gently on the forehead. His throat ached as tears built up behind his eyelids, but he knew that he was doing the right thing. He might not have the strength to go on without her, but he would never be able to forgive himself if Faith lost the chance to say goodbye to her mother because of him.

He got up from the bed slowly, to cause as little creaking as possible. He tore his eyes away from Faith and left the room, determined to set her free.

Chance walked down the hall, through the living room and to the front door. He didn't know how much time had passed since their "argument" in the kitchen, but the sun was already starting to set outside. He opened the door and stepped out into the snow without stopping for a jacket or anything else. He walked quickly, passing the corpse of their snowman on his way. A flood of happy memories washed over him and the tears that he had been holding back finally broke free, dampening the fur around his eyes. Chance didn't bother to wipe the tears away.

He didn't have far to go before he found what he was looking for: the wall. Chance stared at the gray expanse, trying to decide on his course of action. He already knew that he couldn't break it, and he wasn't sure that he could climb again without hurting himself.

He could turn back now, if he wanted to. He could tell Faith that he had done everything he could and failed. She would believe him. She would accept his lies as fact.

Chance looked down at his left hand, where he had cut himself what seemed like an eternity ago. There was a line across his palm where no hair grew, though the scab had healed into fresh, pink skin. He ran his finger along the fresh scar, remembering how carefully Faith had cleaned and bandaged the wound. Chance slowly closed both of his hands into fists, hiding the scar, and closed his eyes.

"Why can't you just let her go?" he asked, addressing the wall and the magic that had created it. "The spell will never be broken. There's no use in keeping her here."

There was no reply. Chance opened his eyes and found that the wall was still there, opaque for now, but becoming more solid with thy dying of the light. Soon it would be dark, and he would have to turn back to make sure that Faith was all right. Tentatively, Chance uncurled the fingers of his right hand and placed his palm on the wall.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but he was infuriated when he found that the wall was as solid as it had ever been. He drew back and, with a snarl, slammed his left fist against it. The soft flesh covering his knuckles split on impact, splattering the grey expanse with blood. He pulled his fist back, growling softly, his anger gone as quickly as it had come.

_So,_ he thought. _I'll have to climb it again after all._

He comforted himself with the thought that, at least, if he fell to his death, the magic would no longer have a reason to keep Faith against her will, and she would be free by default.

_

* * *

_

Faith awoke with a start, though there hadn't been anything to startle her. She sat straight up in bed, running her fingers through her hair, trying to figure out what had frightened her out of her dream. Her throat was dry and her eyes stung from crying.

She recalled her talk with her father and the tears started again, slowly draining from the corners of her eyes.

Faith got out of bed. Her sense of time and space was skewed, and she was very, very thirsty. Something nagged at the corner of her mind, begging for her full attention, but she was too tired and sad to concentrate on it. She decided to get a glass of water, if only to rehydrate herself for more crying. She shuffled to the kitchen, lost in her own sadness, and rummaged through the cupboards until she found a glass. The turned on the tap and filled it to the top with cold water.

She drank half of it very quickly, causing brain freeze. She forced herself to sip the rest, finally letting herself concentrate on what had been nagging at her since she woke up. Faith had expected that, upon closer inspection, the nagging feeling would turn out to be concern for her mother. She was surprised when it actually turned out to be concern for Chance.

The last thing she could remember was falling asleep with her face pressed against his chest. Now that she thought about it, she would have expected to wake up that way, too. Chance wasn't the type to abandon her when she was in need, and she needed his company now more than ever. Without him there to keep her sane, she was just going to dwell on the horror of her mother's illness.

"Chance?" She called out, suddenly eager for his company. Maybe he would watch a movie with her, just for something to do. He might even have a few suggestions on how to deal with the obstacles presented by this news of her mother.

There was no answer. Faith went back past her room to check in his. Empty. She looked in the living room. As she started back towards the kitchen she noticed that the front door was open a crack, and upon closer inspection she found Chance`s tracks leading away from the house. Faith felt a chill run through her spine. The last time she had been in a situation like this, Chance had been climbing the wall...

_Oh, fuck!_

Her glass of water, nearly empty now, crashed to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces. She threw the front door wide open and ran out into the snow, barefoot, screaming Chance`s name as she followed his tracks towards the wall, tripping and falling once over the remains of the snowman`s shattered head before continuing on her way.

* * *

Chance hadn`t gotten more than four feet up when he heard Faith screaming his name. He looked back to see her running through the snow, her face and bare feet red from the cold, her hair whipping in the wind, her eyes burning in anger.

He let himself fall the short distance, landing on his feet, and turned to ask what she was doing out in the cold. She slammed into him, unable to stop, and punched him in the chest repeatedly, still screaming. Chance barely felt the blows.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Faith cried. Tears streamed down her face and she was shivering, though she didn't notice either occurrence. Her breath came out in bursts of white. "You promised me you wouldn't do this! You promised!"

Chance tried to catch her fists in his, tried to calm her down, but she would not let him. After a few moments, he grabbed her up in a bear hug, both to stop her struggling and to get her bare feet out of the snow.

"It's ok, Faith. It's ok."

"Fuck you, its ok!" Faith replied. "You promised me you wouldn't do this!"

"I know," Chance murmured. "I just... I wanted to help you."

"How is you killing yourself helpful in any way, shape or form?!" Faith snapped. She pushed away from him.

"I'm not going to kill myself." Chance replied. He reached for her, trying to calm her. "I just wanted to see if I could get over."

"And then what, smart-ass?" she snapped, hitting him again.

"Then, if I knew it was safe, I could get you over."

"It's not safe!" Faith replied, fixated on his stupidity.

"Well..." Chance had no argument for that. He stopped trying to touch her and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. After a pause, he glanced at her and breathed, "I just... wanted to help you."

Faith took a deep breath and stopped cold. She had been prepared to point out every single way in which he was in the wrong, but she couldn't when he looked at her like that. Suddenly she realised that she was absolutely freezing, and that her feet were nearly frozen. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, briefly lifting the unused foot and wiping it on her pant leg to remove excess snow.

"I thought that we went over this before." She murmured, keeping her voice gentle. "You aren't allowed to hurt yourself because of me."

Chance was relieved to hear the change in her voice. He tried to smile, muttering, "You`re worth a little pain, Faith."

Faith smiled a little, embarrassed. "Sorry for being a bitch a second ago."

"You're not a bitch," Chance replied gently. He extended his left hand, stepping towards her. "Come on. Let's get you out of the snow..."

"Oh my god, what happened to your knuckles?" Faith gasped, reaching out to grab his hand in both of hers.

Chance had forgotten about hurting them, and blood was matted on the fur around the split skin. He tried to pull away before Faith could get a better look at the gory mess but she held on tight, grasping his wrist to keep her hold. "It's nothing," He mumbled, embarrassed. "Just a cut..."

"How did you do this?" Faith murmured. Half-dried blood left splotches on her fingertips but she didn't notice. "Did you fall again?"

"No..." Chance replied, unwilling to explain his outburst.

"Then what?" Faith asked.

He couldn't argue with her concern. "I... uh... punched the wall."

Faith turned to look at the grey expanse and sighed when she found the blood splatter. "Well, that certainly accomplished something."

"I thought so," Chance replied.

Faith released his hand, moving towards the wall to get a closer look at the blood that he had left behind. "Please, promise me that you'll stay away from this thing," she murmured, putting her hand to the blood spot. "Every time you go near it you hurt yourself..."

She trailed off as her hand sunk past the surface of the wall, disappearing through the grey bricks, appearing as a pale shadow on the other side. She gasped and pulled back, stumbling backwards into Chance.

Chance stared at the wall as though it had just turned to gold. "What the hell was that?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"... I don't know," Faith whispered.

"... Do that again," Chance demanded.

Faith repeated the action, hesitantly pressing her hand against the wall. It paused for a moment on the surface before passing through up to her wrist. Faith didn't feel anything unusual, although the change in the laws of physics certainly threw her mind for a loop. She backed away again, pulling her hand back into visibility.

Silently Chance moved towards the wall and put his injured hand up. He pressed his palm against the brick and felt a totally solid wall. His hand did not budge from its spot. He pulled back, still silent.

"What does that mean?" Faith asked, her cold feet forgotten.

"... It means that you're free," Chance whispered. His voice broke at the last word.

He had been prepared for this. In fact, he had wanted to send Faith home. He had wanted her freedom more than anything else, but he hadn't known how much it would hurt. His heart seemed to shatter within his chest, and Chance put his bloodied to his chest just to be sure it wasn't really being torn apart.

Faith looked up into his eyes when she heard his voice break and was worried by what she saw there. She put her hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, but he turned away from her. His voice was barely recognizable when he finally growled, "we should get you inside. Your feet must be freezing."

"'Kay," Faith murmured, unable to reply in any other way.

* * *

The walk back to the house was silent, as was their entrance (Faith stepped on a piece of broken glass and paused to pull it from her foot, wishing that she had remembered her accident). Chance went to sit alone in his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Confused, Faith went to her room first to change into some dry clothes and a pair of warm socks. Afterwards she went to her bathroom to pick up some conveniently placed bandages, a wet washcloth and antiseptic ointment before going to Chance's door.

She listened at the door for any sounds of destruction and, when she heard none, knocked.

"What?" came the gruff reply.

"It's me," Faith murmured.

There was a long pause before she heard footsteps coming to the door. The lock was undone and the door swung open. Chance stood silently before her, suddenly as dark and ominous as he had ever been.

"... hi," Faith murmured. "I brought bandages."

Chance's emotions swirled and danced through his mind, a storm of love and anger and sorrow. He couldn't bring himself to ask what she was still doing here, now that she was free, and instead went back into his room. He went to sit on the bed and Faith followed him, sitting close beside him.

"Give me your hand," she murmured.

Chance offered it wordlessly, watching as she first cleaned the damaged skin with the damp washcloth, ignoring the dull pain as she spread the antiseptic ointment over the wound. Soon she wrapped the bandage over his knuckles and finished by making a pile of unused supplies on the end of the bed. So far she hadn't had to look into Chance's eyes, but she did now.

"So..." she murmured. "Are you mad at me?"

The question caught Chance off guard. "Of course not," he murmured. "I could never be mad at you."

"Then why aren't you talking to me?" Faith asked.

"... I don't know." Chance admitted. "I suppose... I just realize that you're going to leave me. And that..." he paused, unable to articulate his feelings. Finally, he finished, "That upsets me."

Faith murmured, "Why?"

"Because..." _I love you. Say it._ "I'll miss you." _Coward._

"I'll miss you too," Faith replied. "But I can just go visit my mom for a few weeks, can't I? I can come back and see you after that."

A few weeks? That might as well be an eternity. "You can never come back here." Chance whispered.

"Why not?" Faith asked, although she was pretty sure she knew why.

`There`s nothing to stop the wall from trapping you in again. This might be your only chance to get out and stay out." Chance paused and swallowed hard. He fought desperately to keep his voice from cracking. "I... can't let you risk it."

Faith closed her eyes and sighed sadly. She knew he was right, but the idea of never seeing him again broke her heart. "Well, there's the internet, at least. Webcam, phones, instant messages... we can get by."

Chance thought of his earlier decision. He couldn't speak to Faith after she was free. There couldn't be any temptation for her to come back, and he couldn't bring himself to burden her with the knowledge that he was alone and missing her while she was out living her life. Secretly he decided that he would never talk to her again, except maybe to explain his thought process to her once she was gone. For now, he murmured, "Of course."

"... It still sucks, though," Faith whispered, her voice catching.

"Yeah," Chance agreed.

Faith leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, tears breaking free from her eyes as she pulled herself towards him. Surprised by the sudden display of affection, Chance took a moment to return the hug, but his embrace was no less meaningful for the slow reaction. His voice finally cracked as he whispered, "It will be ok, Faith. You're free. You can see your family again."

"Yes," She murmured. "But I wish that I could see you, too."

Chance pulled back and looked down into her eyes, memorizing their dark depth. He smiled sadly and cupped her face in his palm, feeling her soft skin and wishing that he had more time with her. "I'm just grateful that I had you for a few days. Your friends and family are so incredibly lucky, Faith."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as Faith put her hands over his, holding his hand against her face. What was she going to do without him? Who was going to make her laugh? Who was going to hang out with her? Who was going to talk to her? Loosing Chance meant losing her best friend, her world.

"I'm not going home until tomorrow," she mumbled.

"You might not have until tomorrow," Chance warned.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take," Faith replied.

Chance wanted to argue, knew that the magic that had kept her there for so long could just be screwing with them. Every second counted right now. She didn't have time to waste, especially not on him...

But he wanted one more night with her.

"Ok," he whispered. "But you can't wait any longer than that."


	20. Chapter 20

Reiko Rose: Yeah, she's like me that way... :)

* * *

**Twenty**

_If you have one true friend, you have more than your share – _Thomas Fuller

Chance would have assumed that their last night together would be muddled with goodbyes, filled up to the brim with meaningless wishes and words so that they could pretend it didn't bother them. He would have thought that Faith would be glad to go back to the people she loved, and that he would have to plaster on a happy face to hide his true feelings.

In reality few words passed between them. They ended up lying next to each other through most of the night. Every once and a while Faith would fall asleep, waking with a start before too much time had passed and shrinking closer to Chance. Silent tears would run from her eyes for a few moments until she calmed and began to struggle with sleep once again.

Chance fell asleep only once, and had woken when Faith reached out to take his bandaged hand. That was more than enough motivation for him to want to stay awake. He could sleep when she was gone. He wanted to be awake with her while he still had the chance.

"Do you want anything before you go home?" he asked quietly, running his thumb over her fingernails. It was about three in the morning, an eternity since either of them had said a word.

"Like what?" Faith yawned.

"Anything," Chance murmured. "Money. Cars. Nail polish. Whatever tickles your fancy."

Faith thought for a moment. Money would be nice, but it wasn't something she needed. She has happy with what she made at the coffee shop. Cars were okay, but they cost more to keep on the road than she could afford right now, and she liked taking the bus anyways. She considered the trinkets that she might ask for, but only one stood out as something she really wanted.

"... I would like a picture of you," She breathed, stifling a yawn.

Chance hadn't expected her to be greedy, but he hadn't expected her to ask for something so strange, either. "A picture of me?"

"Yeah..." she smiled faintly, biting down on her lower lip.

"Why?" Chance asked. He tried to make a joke of it, muttering. "I can't imagine anyone wanting a reminder of my ugly face," but it came out harsh.

Faith wrinkled her nose at his choice of words. "Ugly is a state of mind," she muttered, pulling her hands back from his grasp and tucking them under her head.

Chance sighed, chastised. "Well, why do you want a picture of me?" he asked.

"Because I want to have something to look at when I get lonely." Faith murmured. She blushed slightly and averted her eyes, embarrassed, adding. "So I know that I have a true friend out there somewhere, even if I don't get to see you."

"Oh. Well..." Her words tugged a chord deep within him, and Chance was suddenly overcome with how much he loved her. He wished that he had the strength to tell her how he felt. "I don't... keep pictures of myself..." his mind went to the piles of pictures he still had kicking around from when he was human. He didn't think that it would be too much to ask for the house to turn the man in the picture into the beast he was now. "... But I might have something kicking around."

"Good," Faith murmured.

They both fell silent after that, and sometime after four in the morning Faith lost the battle to stay awake. Chance watched her as she slept. She seemed so peaceful, so pretty, so calm. Someday, he thought, the luckiest man alive would get to wake up next to that face every morning, and he would be long forgotten, perhaps even dead, by the time that happened.

But for tonight, that face was his. For tonight, he was the luckiest man alive.

* * *

Faith woke up not four hours after she fell asleep. Her head hurt from lack of sleep, but Chance urged her to get up and get ready to leave. He warned her again that her window of time could be closing fast, might even be closed already, and after a few moments she went to her own room. She had a quick shower and got dressed, pulling on the first pair of jeans and T-shirt that she saw. She gathered up her purse and winter jacket, throwing her hat and gloves into the purse after a second thought.

Faith performed these tasks numbly, exhausted from her sorrow. The happiness that she should have felt for seeing her mom again was buried beneath her sadness at leaving Chance behind and her fear that her mother's time might be short.

* * *

Chance had been keeping himself out of the way, sitting at the kitchen table while he waited for Faith to get ready. When he went to find a picture for Faith he had found that one of the photos from his portfolio had been changed from human to beast form. It was a simpler pose, mostly to show potential employers what he looked like. He had been seated in front of a blank wall, looking into the camera, with a half-smile. In beast form the figure in the photo seemed somewhat possessed, his smile resembling a snarl more than anything else.

Something was penned on the back of the picture, though Chance hadn't written on it. First there was an address, the same one which the house had given him so that Faith could come and visit him nearly a week ago. Second there was a series of digits, a phone number, though he had no idea who it belonged to.

There was some blank space on the bottom of the picture. Chance scrounged up a pen and, after a moment to think, penned his message:

_Faith,_

_Thank you for the best week of my life. I hope life brings you all the happiness you deserve._

_Love,_

_Chance_

* * *

Faith left her things by the front door. She wasn't sure about how she was going to get home, but she had a feeling that the house was back to where it had been when she was first given the address to come and visit Chance. If that was true she could just catch the bus back home, almost as though nothing had happened.

Faith tried to think about how long she had been at the house. Almost a week, though it seemed much longer when she thought about everything that had happened. She had expected to be there for much longer, maybe even the rest of her life. Instead she was leaving just in time for reading week... and in all likelihood she would never, ever come back.

Faith moved towards the kitchen, knowing that she would find Chance there. Sure enough he was sitting at the kitchen table, slumped over with his head resting on his arms. Faith knew that he hadn't had more than a few minutes rest through the night and thought that he was sleeping. She came up behind him quietly, calling, "Chance?"

Chance remained as he was for a few moments, and then lifted his head, rubbing at his eyes. Faith took a step back as she realised that he hadn't been sleeping. He had been crying.

"I'm ready," she murmured, although her words were hollow. She took a seat opposite of him at the table, working up the courage to meet his eyes.

"I found you a picture," Chance murmured, sliding the photo towards her. "Its not very good, but..."

"No," Faith murmured, lifting the picture from the table. She studied the figure on the page and smiled faintly, tracing her fingers over it. "Its perfect."

Chance watched as she slid the picture into her pocket. His chest felt like an open wound, and try as he might he couldn't bring himself to bare his soul to her while he still had the chance. He knew that he had to let her go, knew that he would never see her again, knew that telling her wouldn't change anything. But he wanted to say it anyways, out loud, so that she knew exactly how much he cared about her.

Faith looked up, finally able to meet Chance's eyes. He tried to smile reassuringly but his eyes shone with unshed tears. Faith's breath caught in her throat and she tried to think of something she could say, something she could do, to make it better.

"You should get going," Chance murmured, his voice catching slightly.

"... I guess," Faith agreed, though the thought of leaving mad her stomach churn. She stood and Chance followed suit. Faith stopped at the front door, pulling her boots on and buttoning up her jacket. She pulled her mittens on and pulled her purse over her shoulder, completing the tasks with an air of sadness.

This house felt like her home now, and Chance meant more to her than she could ever express. Leaving him behind was like being punched repeatedly in the chest, and the fact that she could never come back only made it worse. She wished that she could talk to him about how she was feeling, that she could articulate how she couldn't imagine life without him, but knew that she would only make things worse.

Faith had never felt so lost.

Chance knew that there was still time. He could lock Faith in her room and keep her a prisoner for eternity, or he could tell the magic to do the job for him. He could guilt her into coming back after seeing her mother, or he could beg her to stay. Instead, he opened the front door for her. He knew that he had no right to keep her away from the people she loved, that she deserved so much more than he could ever offer her. Chance was simply grateful for the time that Faith had given him. He would cherish his memories of her for the rest of his days, and he wished her only the best in her future.

After all, he loved her. All he wanted was for her to be happy, even if that meant that he would die alone.

* * *

Faith and Chance walked quietly, both lost in their own thoughts. They passed by the snowy corpse of their snowman without a word, although they both remembered how much fun they had had that day. It seemed unfair that so much joy could be crushed so quickly.

Chance nearly turned back when he saw the wall. He didn't think he could feel any more hopeless, but he found that his hear plummeted to a new low upon seeing the grey expanse before him. It seemed to represent the loss he felt, to mock him.

Faith didn't know whether or not the wall would let her through. The thought that she might have wasted her only chance scared her, but not as much as she would have expected it to. It didn't take long before they were close enough to touch it, though Faith stayed back. She was afraid to try going through, afraid that it wouldn't work, afraid that it would.

She turned to Chance, her mind going in several directions at once. "Can you come with me?" she asked, although she knew the answer before she had spoken the first word.

Chance looked away from her, unable to hold his tears back any longer. "No," he growled, almost too softly for Faith to hear him. "I belong here... away from the rest of the world."

Faith looked at Chance, studying his appearance. She had to concentrate to see that he wasn`t human. His entire body was covered coarse fur, although it was much cleaner than it had been when she had first laid eyes on it. His face was like a cross between a wolf and a lion, although there was nothing menacing in his expression. His nose was a black wet knob surrounded by fur, and his ears were large and erect. His chest was incredibly muscular, as was pretty much every single other part of him. His feet and hands resembled paws, although he hands were less mutated. His tail hung limply, and extension of his sorrow. His eyes burned in sadness, too blue, too human, too familiar.

Faith remembered their first meeting, and how she had had to touch him to believe he was real. She closed the space between them now, reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek. Chance closed his eyes and reached up to grasp her hand, wishing that this didn't have to be goodbye.

Faith tried to say that things were going to be okay, but the lie caught in her throat. Instead she murmured, "I'm going to miss you."

Chance opened his eyes, lowering their linked hands. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you," he whispered.

"Eat less pancakes," Faith replied, trying to smile.

Chance swallowed hard and looked away, trying to work up his courage. His head hung low and he was bent so that Faith didn't have to look up to far to look him in the eyes. Faith stood on her tiptoes and, resting her hands on Chance's chest for balance, kissed him gently on the cheek. Tears broke free from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she put her arms around him, hugging Chance for one last time. Chance returned the embrace, and Faith could feel his claws through her jacket.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" She murmured, pulling back.

"Don't worry about me," Chance whispered. He struggled not to let his voice break, shakily cupping her face in his sore left hand. "Just... be free, be happy. That's all I want."

Faith nodded, unable to speak.

"Goodbye," Chance breathed. He bent to kiss her on the top of her head and then released her.

Faith turned towards the wall, blinded by tears. She put out her hand, slipping through the grey barrier like a shadow.

"I love you," Chance whispered, but it was too late.

Chance moved towards the wall, turned, leaned against it and slid into a sitting position. His hand went to his chest as his heart burst into a thousand tiny fragments. He couldn't breathe for the pain and tears ran down his face. He screamed Faith's name at the top of his lungs, trying to alleviate the pressure, but it only served to make it worse. He thought he was dying, but he stayed alive, unable to move.

* * *

Snow began to fall, covering Chance in a sprinkle of white. He stood finally, walking slowly back to the house. He put his hand to his cheek, where Faith had kissed him, wishing that he had had the strength to tell how he felt, wishing that he had been worthy of her love. The knowledge that he would never see her again weighed down on his shoulders, crushing him slowly.

He left the front door wide open and went straight to her room. He laid down on her bed, surrounding himself with the things that she had been surrounded with, staring at the grad picture that had served as his first glimpse at the woman he loved. His pain only increased upon seeing her face, but Chance didn't care. He let himself simmer in the pain he deserved, torturing himself as he recalled every moment that he had spent with his beloved.

Chance didn't want to live without her.


	21. Chapter 21

teardrop: Thanks, I'll try!

A Nonny Mouse: Well, here it is!

Reiko Rose: Sorry to make you so sad :(

**Twenty-One**

_Life is an adventure in forgiveness – _Norman Cousins

Faith looked back after going through the wall and wasn't surprised to find that the house that had served as her world for the last week disappeared behind her, though the knowledge that it was gone caused her chest to explode in sorrow. She was back in the neighbourhood where she had started no more than a week ago, walking slowly towards the bus stop.

Faith hadn't given much thought to what it would be like when the time came for her to leave Chance behind, mostly because she had never really thought that the time would come. She had believed that she would be trapped forever. Had the thought ever come up, she would surely have pushed it away.

A crushing weight fell down upon her, literally throwing Faith to the ground. She stumbled as a sharp pain stabbed through her heart and she let out a sharp cry as her knees struck snowy pavement. Tears burned in her eyes and her chest expanded as she tried to swallow her sobs.

Behind her, as through from a great distance, Faith heard Chance's voice screaming her name. She got to her feet and turned, staring back in the direction from which she had come. Her breath came out in short, pained burst as she searched the area for Chance's house, or the wall, or anything that might remind her of what she was leaving behind.

Nothing.

Faith felt an answering scream building up in her chest, pushing past the sobs that she had gulped down. She tried to shove it down, mindful that there were people in the houses around her. Her throat felt raw from holding everything in, and Faith put her hands to her face, fighting the wild pain that suddenly fluttered in her breast.

Chance's voice echoed in her ear once more, a mere whisper in the open air. Faith's answering cry tore from her lips, a choking sob more than anything. The sound lacked the effect of drawing perturbed homeowners to their windows but Faith was beyond caring if anyone heard her or not. She hadn't been expecting this kind of pain, nor could she remember ever being in this kind of pain before.

Faith stumbled back in the direction of the bus stop, wiping at her eyes and fighting to regain control of her emotions, her body. She got to the bus stop just as the bus pulled up, fumbling for her bus pass as the driver waited patiently. She found it after what seemed like an eternity and held it up with her student card. She tried to smile at the bus driver. He wasn't the same one as Sunday, but he was just as friendly, and she appreciated his patience.

"You okay?" he asked kindly.

Faith knew that she looked like shit and could only nod.

The bus driver wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"

Having someone be nice to her only served to make Faith feel worse. She nodded again, waved, and went to sit in the very back, unwilling to socialize with the other bus patrons. She sat by the window, searching for a trace of the house that she knew she would not see, wishing that she had had more time to say goodbye to her friend.

She pulled Chance's picture from her pocket, smoothing it out with her hand. She concentrated on his blue eyes until her own were too filled with tears for her to see. She finally let herself cry, silencing her sobs but letting the tears run free. She hadn't the strength to block those, and she didn't care enough to try. There were only a few other passengers and they were all sitting up near the front, so there was no one close enough to see.

It took about fifteen minutes for Faith to regain control of herself, and when her eyes cleared she saw that a few of her tears fell onto the glossy finish of the picture. Worried that she would destroy it she flipped it and rubbed the tears off onto her pant leg, noticing the note on the back. The address matched the one that she had been given when Chance asked her to come and visit, but she had never seen the phone number before. Her heart lightened when she realised that it might be a number for Chance, though he had told her before that he had no phone.

The idea that Faith might be able to call Chance and talk to him, even for a few moments, lifted her sorrow to a much more bearable level. She hugged his picture to her chest, the rest of the picture's script forgotten as she tried to imagine where she would even start in a phone conversation with him. Faith imagined how good his voice would sound, wiping away her tears with the faintest trace of a smile. As long as she could hear his voice and look at his picture, she could handle being apart from him.

* * *

It took Faith three transfers in the two hours to get to her parent's house. She walked the last block there, glancing around at her old neighbourhood. All of the kids she had played with were grown up and moved away, and one of them was already married. Most of the neighbours had lived there since before Faith was born, and they would recognise her if they saw her walking past their window. Chances were, they would also invite her in for coffee and cake. That was just the kind of community she had grown up in.

Faith pulled her hood up, shielding her face. She wasn't in the mood to talk to her neighbours at the moment. She dug her old house key out of her purse and, rather than knocking on the door, let herself in. "Mom?" she called, kicking off her boots and letting her jacket and purse drop to the floor. "Dad?"

"Faith?" Her dad had been in the kitchen making lunch, and he ran out to meet her. He looked haggard, like he hadn't slept for the last couple nights.

"Hi," Faith murmured. "Where's Mom?"

"Watching TV in the basement." He replied. "She'd feeling kind of hopeless."

"That's understandable," Faith murmured. "But at least she's not sleeping the day away. That's always a good sign."

"Yeah." He replied. "Go down and see her. She'd like that."

"Okay."

Faith's mother didn't look up until Faith sat down beside her on the couch. She was watching old family movies from when Faith had been a little girl with long hair. Her mother sighed, glancing at her adult daughter.

"I didn't want him to call and worry you." She muttered, thought nothing made her fear easier to bear than having Faith by her side.

"I'm glad he did," Faith replied.

"You're going to miss your trip."

"I wasn't really into it anyways," Faith answered honestly.

"I'm tired of interfering with your life," her mother mumbled.

"I'm glad that I have you to interfere," Faith replied with a smile. Her mother leaned over to hug her and Faith buried her face in her mom's hair, smelling the familiar scent of her face creams and perfume.

In time, they fell back into their comfortable routines. Faith sat with her back to the arm of the couch, crossing her legs in front of her, and her mother stretched out her legs so that her feet came to rest on her daughter's linked ankles. They commented on the movie from time to time, and Faith answered some questions about school, friends, and boyfriends. They talked about make-up, sex, books, magazines... everything but cancer.

They had both agreed that it was no use to talk about it unless it was a for sure thing, though neither said a word about it.

* * *

Chance didn`t know how long he had spent in Faith`s room. It seemed like an eternity, but in reality it couldn`t be more than a day. He couldn't help staring at Faith's picture, though seeing it only caused him more pain.

Hunger pains nagged Chance gently and he ignored them. After a long while he got thirsty but he didn't acknowledge it. His muscles became restless to the point of agony from his stillness and yet he refused to move. His eyes burned from fatigue and he refused to sleep. Chance cherished every moment of pain. After all, it was what he deserved.

Chance thought briefly about the pretty ugly woman that had visited him what seemed like an eternity before. Had she ever had so much as the slightest idea of what would happen to him? That he would finally learn to love someone, truly love them, only to have them snatched away?

He had changed since his meeting with the strange woman, truly changed, though very little of it was due to his own perseverance. Chance saw now that it was only by being with Faith, and by learning what it was like to feel, to care, to love... that he could finally become a fully developed emotional being.

So he had learned to love, as the woman had asked. That part hadn`t been easy, but it had at least been doable. But for Faith to love him back...? The idea was laughable. Chance believed that she cared about him as a friend, but he knew that she would never see him as a lover. What had the woman been thinking?

Chance couldn't quite blame her, although he did try in an attempt to take his mind off of his sorrow. The woman had given him a tiny chance... perhaps she had even believed that the spell could be broken, and that Chance could be human again, someday.

Chance sighed and looked down into his left hand. The scar that Faith had cared for so gently stood out pale against the dark skin of his palm and his scabbed knuckles itched beneath their bandage. It was hard to believe that he could never see his beloved again, or hear her, or touch her... all he had left now were his memories, and his scars. And without seeing her the pain of his loss would never decrease, never heal. It would only simmer and boil like an ever festering wound until the day he finally died...

Chance thought that that day couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

Faith slept over in her old room that night. It was eerily similar to her room back in Chance`s house, though it was one was missing a kick-ass bathroom and the friend that she missed so dearly. She went through her closet, picking a nightgown from the spare clothes she had left behind, just in case she felt the need to stay over with her parents.

She stayed awake long after her parents had gone to bed, despite the fact that she was exhausted. She took out her picture of Chance, looking into the familiar eyes as though they held the secret to her sorrow. She wished that she could call him but knew that she would wake her parents with her crying. She wished that she could send him an email but her parents had only one computer in their room.

The wound in her chest was raw still, and every few moments Faith found herself putting her arms around herself as though to sooth the ache. She had thought that some of her distress would let up when she got to see her mom. After all, her mother was the one she was in danger of losing forever... but her pain was still there, worse now than it had been when she left the house. She tried to rationalise it away, to chalk it up to fatigue, or stress, or apprehension. It was no use. Faith couldn't quite explain the torrent of emotions that swirled within her heart, but she did know the cause.

She missed Chance.

She thought about calling the number but didn`t want to wake Chance if he was asleep. She wondered what he was doing without her, if he was trying to numb his mind with TV, as she had, or if he had spent the day doing something productive. She traced her finger over the figure in the picture, wishing with all her heart that she could go back to him.

* * *

Chance stayed up through the night, though his trance like state could hardly be categorised as wakefulness. The hunger that had only nagged at him before was gnawing at him now, though Chance hardly noticed. His throat burned from thirst but Chance couldn`t bring himself to move. In his stillness he hovered in a dreamlike state and his memories seemed to come alive. He saw Faith with a vivid clarity, could almost feel her presence in the room, though the spell was broken when he called out to her.

Sometime around six in the morning the house began to rearrange itself. Chance could hear it creaking and groaning as it moved to confuse him. Not too long ago it would have infuriated him. Forty-eight hours ago he and Faith would have smiled about it. Now he barely noticed, and when he finally did understand what was happening he found that he couldn`t care any less.

Chance finally gave into sleep some time before noon. The final memory to flash through his mind before he succumbed was the image of playing outside with Faith and spinning around with her in his arms. He remembered how good it had felt when she put her arms around him and giggled with her sunglasses askew...

* * *

... Faith awoke from a dream about Chance. Her surroundings fooled her for a moment and she called out to him, though she had never done so before. Of course there was no response and Faith realised quickly where she was. She glanced at the clock, saw that it was noon, and threw a sweater over her nightgown, leaving the room to find her parents.

Her mother was still asleep and her dad was nursing black coffee, staring at the Sunday newspaper without really seeing it. Faith got herself a cup of Joe and added sugar and milk until it was a light beige colour, joining her dad at the kitchen table.

"So mom's going to the doctor tomorrow?" Faith asked.

"Yeah. Early in the morning. The secretary set up an appointment for her." He replied.

"Oh. Good." Faith murmured.

"Yeah. So if it is..." he couldn't say "cancer" "... you know... they can do something about it right away."

"Good." Faith said again.

They both drank in silence. Her father contemplated the headlines for about ten minutes before setting the paper down and looking her daughter in the eyes. "I don't know if she can do this again, Faith. She gets so depressed when she's sick..."

"I know," Faith murmured. "But we have to be there for her, dad. She needs us."

"I know," he sighed, swirling the last bit of coffee around his cup. "I know."

"Things will be okay," Faith tried to assure herself just as much as him. "Things happen as you get older. Tissue changes. People get lumpy."

"Yeah," her dad replied hollowly.

* * *

Faith spent the rest of her Sunday cooking, cleaning, and doing whatever else she could think of to keep her mind off the following day. Both she and her father would be going with her mom to her appointment, and neither of them could convince themselves that there wouldn't be bad news.

Her mom spent her time sleeping and watching TV. Every once and a while Faith would sit and talk with her but she couldn't bring herself to do it very often. Her mind constantly went back to Chance, and try as she might she couldn't stop worrying about him.

After what seemed like an eternity her parents went to bed and Faith was alone in the house. She wandered around, cleaning this and that, going through old photo albums. Eventually she was drawn back to her room.

Faith sat cross-legged on her bed with her purse on her lap. She pulled her picture of Chance out and stared at it, tracing her fingers over his face. The pain lessened for a moment as she closed her eyes and recalled the time that they had spent together. She put a hand to her aching heart, flipping the picture over. She opened her eyes and read over the phone number before looking over the message that Chance had penned.

The best week of his life? Faith's fingers traced over the words he had scribbled, smiling at their messiness. Could a week with her really be the best of his life?

Faith was reaching for her cell phone before she had time to think. She would call him, tears or no tears. She had to hear his voice, had to make sure that he was alright. She dialled the number on the back of his picture and her heart quickened when the line began to ring...

* * *

... And ring and ring and ring. Chance was forced to sit up and look around for the source of the noise. Surely, it couldn't be what he thought...

But it was. A cell phone. On Faith's vanity.

Chance pulled himself up from her bed, his head spinning as he reached for the shrill contraption. His heart pounded as he stumbled back to the bed, reading the caller ID.

It was Faith.

Faith was phoning him.

She hadn't forgotten him.

He answered the phone before he could stop himself. He had told himself that he wouldn't draw this out for her, that he would cut off contact for her own good, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than to hear Faith's voice.

"Faith?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Hi," her voice came through the phone loud and clear, a mixture of sorrow and relief. "Chance. Its so good to hear your voice."

"Faith, I..." he trailed off, his chest seeming to expand to its bursting point. "I'm glad you called."

"Me too. I miss you so much, Chance. I..." He heard Faith's voice crack on the other end. "I wish I was with you."

"So do I," Chance whispered. He bowed his head, his hunger and thirst forgotten as he concentrated on the reason that she had left in the first place. "But, Faith, is your mom okay?"

"I don't know yet," Faith replied. "We'll find out tomorrow morning."

"I'll be thinking of you," Chance murmured.

"Chance... how are you?" Faith asked, her voice flooded in concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure," Chance replied honestly.

There was a long pause between them. Chance was content to simply listen to Faith's breathing through the phone until he heard her breaths get shallower, quicker, until she was crying softly into the phone. Chance cupped the receiver, concerned by her sudden tears.

"Faith?" he murmured, his voice gruff with worry. "What's the matter?"

"... Nothing," she lied. He could hear her sniffing and wiping away her tears in hopes of hiding her sorrow.

"Faith," he breathed, his own pain forgotten. "Please. Tell me what's the matter."

"I miss you," Faith replied. She regained control somehow and mumbled, "I thought that coming home would be a good thing but I feel worse now than I've ever felt before."

"You're just worried about your mother," Chance replied. "You`ll see. You`ll feel better after tomorrow."

"No, Chance..." Faith fought to make herself clear. "I... I'm upset because I'm not with you. I... I want to come back."

Chance was flooded with a mixture of excitement and fear. Faith coming back would be the best thing he could ever hope for... but it was the worst thing she could do. Coming back would mean that she would be trapped forever, and he could not let her make that mistake. She had so much potential in the outside world... he could not let her throw her life away for his sake.

Chance took a deep breath. Faith had reminded him of his wish to keep her safe and happy in spite of himself. Though it pained him to say it, he murmured, "I don't want you coming back here, Faith. Ever."

* * *

Faith closed her eyes. She had been expecting that response. He had warned her that she could never return, lest the wall keep her in. Keeping her voice low so she wouldn't wake her parents Faith murmured, "I know. But..."

Chance's voice came through the phone in a growl. "Promise me."

Faith sighed. She cared to much about him to upset him in an argument. "I promise,"

"Good." Chance paused, and then murmured, "Faith, I just want you to know... I care about you more than anything. And I need you to live your life and be happy. I need to know that I haven't held you back."

Faith fought back tears as she whispered, "I'll try."

* * *

"Good," Chance said again. Tears prickled his inner eyelids but he didn't let them through in his voice. "I have to go now."

"Already?" Faith asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry. But... I'll be thinking of you."

"Okay. Take care of yourself." She replied. "Is it okay if I call back tomorrow night?"

"Sure," Chance lied.

"Okay." Faith paused, took a deep breath, and murmured, "Goodnight, Chance. I miss you."

"Goodnight," Chance replied.

He clicked off the phone and held it in his right fist, slowly tightening his fingers around it. He took no pleasure in his strength now, though he could remember a time that destroying something had made him feel better. Soon the screen cracked, and after a series of crunches and pops the phone was nothing more than a pile of plastic and wires. Chance let these crushed pieces fall to the floor, addressing the magic with a growl in his voice.

"Don't you dare replace that."

The silence told him that he would be obeyed. Chance looked at the picture of Faith, smiling sadly as he addressed her.

"Goodnight, my love. You`ll forget about me in time, you`ll see. Its best that way."


	22. Chapter 22

**Twenty-Two**

_Aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly. But the bumblebee doesn't know it, so it goes on flying anyway – _Mary Kay Ash

Faith and her parents went about their morning in a muter panic. The drive to the doctor's office was silent except for Faith's iPod, which she had taken out and started playing at full blast to keep the panic at bay. Her dad let them out at the door and parked around back. He found Faith and her mother in the waiting room and this time Faith had given her mother the iPod.

After a little while one of the nurses came out and called her mother's name. Faith poked her mother gently and she stood without question, handing her daughter her electronics and following the nurse down the hallway and out of sigh. Faith felt as though her lungs would explode as she waited next to her father, both of them expecting the worst.

In ten minutes her mom came back with a huge smile on her face. "It's nothing!" she mouthed from across the room. Faith glanced at her dad, breathing her first full breath in the last three days.

He burst into tears.

* * *

Chance lay in a trance. His hunger and thirst gnawed mercilessly at him, too painful now to ignore. He wondered vaguely how long it would take for him to die. His metabolism was much, much faster than it had been in his human form... did that mean it took less time for him to starve?

Faith had asked him to take care of himself, though, and Chance felt honour bound to do so... or, at least, to try. He began the painful process of pulling himself up from his comatose state and moving ever so slowly to the end of the bed. His head spun as he tumbled off of the end of the foot of the bed, cursing softly as he fell in a painful heap on the floor.

Chance began to crawl painfully, his head spinning and twisting with his every movement. Soon his dizziness lead to nausea, and Chance found himself crawling towards Faith's bathroom, rather than the kitchen. He got to the toilet just in time and vomited what was left in his stomach into the porcelain bowl. His stomach flipped and twisted as he brought up what seemed like every drop of moisture from his body.

Exhausted, Chance fell back, drawing his hand numbly across his mouth. He moved painfully to the bathtub and turned on the faucet, cupping water in his hands and bringing it to his mouth. He didn't drink very much, in case he became nauseous again, and the water filled him up enough that he could make it back to the bedroom without thinking about the kitchen.

* * *

Faith and her parents ended up going to her coffee shop for a celebratory drink and cookies. Her mother was back to her normal joking self, and her dad had stopped crying and settled into a relieved grin.

Faith was happy that her mom was going to be okay, but she couldn't bring herself to be as carefree her parents. Her worry for Chance still nagged at her, as did the pain in her chest. She couldn't wait to get the rest of the day over with so she could go home and call him.

Cat came over with their drinks and informed Faith that she and Robert were now dating, no thanks to her. Faith said that she was happy for them, which was true, and Cat flounced away to get their cookies.

"So I guess you'll be bored for the rest of the week, since you're not going on your vacation now and you have no shifts here," Faith's mom pointed out, sipping her hot chocolate.

"Oh, I don't know. I have some money saved up and I kind of wanted to spend time with some of my friends around here, anyways." Faith replied honestly. "I mean, it's a week off. I should be taking advantage of that."

"You should be taking your studies seriously," her dad put in, though he was too happy to start nagging her.

"Oh, I am. But... sometimes friends are just as important at school," Faith replied.

"That's very true." Her mom replied. "And you know, sweetie, we want you to have fun and be happy. You're too young to concentrate on nothing but work, school or otherwise. You need to go out with your friends... hell, you need to get a boyfriend."

Faith smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I do."

* * *

Faith went back to her apartment that night. It was just as she left it, though there was some milk going sour in her fridge and her bread was stale. She threw them both out and started a grocery list.

She checked her emails and found nothing from Chance, though there was one from her boss, asking if she could take a shift for the following night. Faith said that yes, she could, and sent Chance an email, wondering how he was. For some reason she wasn`t expecting a reply, and that scared her a little.

Faith went to her bedroom and changed into her pyjamas. She put Chance`s picture up on her vanity so she could see it from her bed and then sat down, cell phone in hand. She had programmed Chance into her contacts the previous night, but for some reason the number didn`t pick up now. She got a recorded message saying that the number was out of service.

Faith double-checked the digits on the back of the mirror, nearly ripping it off of her vanity in panic, but they matched. She dialled them in anyways, not trusting the automatic contact listing, and got the same recorded message. Something akin to fear began to build up in the back of Faith`s skull and she put the phone down, scared that she would drop it in her panic.

Faith went back to her laptop and sent another email to Chance, asking him if something was the matter with his phone because she couldn`t reach him. Tears rolled down her face and she misspelled every other word, but she didn`t care. She sent him the email with her phone number in it, just in case, and ran back to her room to see if she had missed any calls.

Nothing.

Faith stared at Chance`s picture, tears spilling from her eyes. She didn`t know why, but not being able to speak to him inspired such terror that she could hardly breath. The ever present pain in her chest burned as she fell back in her bed, sobbing like a little girl. Faith buried her face in her pillow, unable to control the tears that flowed down her face.

Eventually she cried herself to sleep, though her tears continued for hours after she was dead to the world.

* * *

Chance awoke with nausea this time, and the room spun around him without a single movement on his part. He shut his eyes tightly against it and hoped that it would go away, but no such luck. Another desperate crawl to the bathroom, another exhausted crawl back to the bed.

* * *

Faith awoke and tried the phone number again. She had known that it wouldn`t work, but having her thoughts confirmed did nothing to make her feel better. She checked her emails again and, though her boss had replied with a thank you, Chance had not. Faith spent the time up until her shift trying the number at random intervals, though she never got an answer. Eventually she was forced to admit that, for whatever reason, she was not going to get a hold of him.

Faith tried to remember how Chance had sounded in that phone call. His voice had been sad, resigned to something she couldn`t understand. Had he known that something would happen and she couldn`t speak to him anymore? He had made her promise never to come back. How could he do that to her if he knew that she couldn't talk to him? How could he do that when he meant so much to her?

Faith got dressed for work. She was sad and confused, but she would have to hide it to get through her shift. She couldn't be angry with Chance, but she couldn't deny the loss she felt, either.

* * *

Chance woke up again, nauseous enough that he was uncomfortable, but not enough that he would have to make the seemingly endless crawl to the toilet. He was glad for that, since he did not believe he could make the trip a third time.

He wondered if Faith had tried to make another call. If she had, she was sure to know that she couldn't get through to him, though he didn't think she would ever know why.

He missed her desperately. Chance couldn't remember anything so precious as the sound of Faith's voice, or the way she looked when she smiled at him. He couldn't remember anything more beautiful than her eyes, or anything as sweet as the feeling he got when she was touching him. Chance knew that he wasn't long for the world if he was too weak to leave the room, especially not now that he had been so sick, but he was truly grateful that he had at least had the chance to speak with Faith one last time.

* * *

Faith went through her shift in a blur. She served customers, smiling when she had to, but her heart wasn't in it. Cat asked her what was wrong but Faith brushed the question aside, unable to explain herself.

They finished everything in record time, since Faith did anything and everything she could think of to keep her mind off Chance. She even cleaned the single bathroom, which they usually had to bicker about off and on through the whole shift until someone took the high road and swabbed it.

Faith was cleaning the counted when she heard Cat mutter under her breath: "Oh, great, its one of those homeless people. I'll ask her to leave."

Faith glanced up at the person. It took a few seconds for it to register that it was indeed a woman, because she was so thin that her breasts were barely there under her threadbare coat. The woman's huge nose was red from the cold, and when she opened her mouth her teeth were jagged and yellow, as though she had never seen a dentist. She pushed up the sleeves of her thin coat and revealed the track marks along her veins. Faith guessed that the woman might be in her thirties, though she had seen too much in her years. Her muddy brown eyes wandered around the store and Faith noticed with a pang of pity that her bare feet were shoved into crocs.

"Leave her alone for a bit," Faith murmured. "We've got twenty minutes before close and she must be freezing."

"I'm not dealing with her then," Cat warned. "She must stink, just look at her!"

"Yeah," Faith agreed. She left the counter and went to speak with the woman, who was sitting at the table closest to the heating vent.

The woman looked at her fearfully. "I'm not here to cause any trouble," she murmured, her voice soft. "I`m just so cold..."

"Oh, that's okay." Faith replied gently. "I was just coming to see if you wanted anything..."

"I don't have any money," the woman replied quietly.

"That's okay." Faith murmured. She sat across from her and the woman looked up. Was it Faith's imagination, or was her hair a little less scraggly, a little more beautiful? "How abouta hot chocolate, or a coffee or something? And maybe a muffin or something?"

"I can't pay for any of it," the woman reiterated.

"I can," Faith replied, "And I don't mind. You... well... not to be mean, but it looks like you could use something to eat."

The woman smiled, and Faith thought her teeth looked whiter, straighter. "I... I would appreciate it..."

"Okay," Faith replied. She got up and went to the counter, ringing up an order and taking the money out of her tips to pay for it.

"Are you retarded?" Cat asked. "Once you feed them they never leave."

"I'll take care of it," Faith replied, bringing a large hot chocolate and a toasted banana muffin with butter to the woman's table. When she got there she looked into the woman's eyes and noticed that they were brighter. Hadn't they been a muddy brown before?

"Thank you so much," the woman murmured, reaching for the hot chocolate and sipping it quietly.

"Don't worry about it." Faith replied. "I'd get you something a little more filling but we don't really have real food here."

"I'm fine with anything," the woman replied.

"Well, I have to finish up cleaning, but let me know if you need anything." Faith said, going back to the counter.

"Do you think she's really homeless?" Cat asked. "I mean, I thought she looked like shit earlier, but... look at her!"

Faith had just been face to face with the woman but she turned to look at her anyways, astonished to find a beautiful woman sitting there. Her hair was still in a ponytail but her bangs fell across her face, framing her beautiful eyes and skin. Her skinny frame had plumped out into a curvaceous body, and her clothes were modern, brand new versions of what they had been. Her crocs had been replaced by designed winter boots.

Faith couldn't believe her eyes. Had she not seen correctly when the woman had first walked in...? And how could someone dressed like that not afford a muffin and hot chocolate?

"Well, you could ask her," Faith said for sake of conversation.

Faith and Cat finished cleaning the shop, both of them stealing glances at the beautiful woman. Faith couldn't imagine why she had come in looking like a homeless wretch (she couldn't believe that she hadn't been paying attention in the beginning, not when she had looked so closely and taken in so many details) but decided not to judge.

Soon it was time to close. Cat closed down the till and Faith went up to the woman and cleared her throat. "I'm really sorry but we have to close up now."

"Oh, thank you." The woman stood. Faith looked into her shining eyes and wondered who she was. "I appreciate your kindness," the woman murmured, grasping Faith`s hand in hers.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Faith replied. "I just thought you might need a little sugar."

The woman smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. "Well, I owe you a wish, then."

"... A what?" Faith asked, sure that she hadn't heard correctly.

"A wish." The woman replied. She turned to leave and then stopped, looking Faith in the eyes. "Oh... and tell Chance that he did good. I thought he could improve, but I never imagined he would change so much."

"Chance?" Faith's heard stopped. The woman started out the door and Faith followed her out into the street. "Wait, how do you know...?"

But the woman had disappeared. Faith was standing outside in her purple apron and it began to snow, sprinkling her dark hair with flat flakes. Faith looked up and down the street but there was no one to be found.

Cat came outside holding Faith's winter jacket and purse, locking the door behind her. "Hey, are you okay? What were you guys talking about?"

"... Nothing." Faith replied, numbly pulling the jacket over her arms. "Just a mutual friends."

"Ah. Well, I'm sorry I misjudged her." Cat muttered as she lead the way towards the bus stop. "She seemed so weird at first... but she was gorgeous!"

"Yeah, she was..."

* * *

Faith got home and tried Chance's phone again, numbly hanging up when she got the recording. She wondered at the strange woman. How could she know Chance? As far as Faith knew, he had only ever known his family and her. Was that woman part of his family? If so, why wasn't she spending time with him? What did she mean, she owed Faith a wish?

Faith changed out of her clothes and into her PJs, glancing at the picture in the mirror. Chance's piercing blue eyes looked back at her, portraying a sorrow that she hadn't noticed before. Faith reached out and took the picture down, hugging it to her chest. Tears started in her eyes as she whispered, "I miss him so, so much. I wish I could see him one more time, just for a minute."

* * *

Chance noticed a flickering movement in the vanity mirror from the corner of his eye. He focused his gaze there and was amazed when he saw Faith on the other side. She was hugging his picture to her chest with tears rolling down her cheeks. She turned slowly towards her bed, moving to pull back the blankets and go to sleep.

Chance forced himself to move, though his head spun to do so. He crawled to the end of the bed and propelled himself towards the vanity, reaching towards the mirror. His hand came to rest on the glass and he called out to the girl on the other side in spite of himself.

"Faith!" his voice was a dry growl, barely understandable, but he didn't care. He could see Faith, and that was what mattered.

* * *

Faith thought she heard her name and turned slowly back towards the mirror. Instead of her reflection she saw Chance, his feverish eyes staring at her through the glass. His one hand propped him up on the vanity table and his other pressed against the glass as though he wished to break through it and reach her.

"Chance?" she whispered, running back to the vanity. She mirrored him, pressing her hand to the glass.

"I can't believe this," Chance breathed. His lips were dry to the point of cracking and his fur was tangled halfway to hell. Faith gazed over him and pressed experimentally on the glass, wondering if she might get through, if she only pressed hard enough. "I thought..."

"Are you okay?" Faith asked, forgetting her sorrow for a moment. "I tried calling you over and over but I can't get through..."

"I'm fine," Chance lied. "What about you? Is your mom okay?"

"Oh, that was a false alarm." Faith murmured. "She's totally fine. She'll outlive us all..."

At that moment Chance was overcome with nausea. He turned away from the mirror and retched, his body shuddering with every dry heave. He was too far gone to bring anything up but the process was painful, and Faith felt his pain through the mirror.

"Chance?" she breathed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing..." he came back to the mirror, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Faith noticed now that he looked incredibly ill, like a man on his deathbed. "Just... a flu."

"You're dehydrated..." Faith murmured. Suddenly she was scared for his life, though Chance had always seemed strong enough to withstand anything.

"No, I'm... I'm fine," Chance whispered, not wanting her to worry.

"Chance, please-" Faith paused as his image in the mirror flickered.

"Faith?" Chance breathed, pressing his hand to the glass one last time.

"Yes?" Faith asked. His image flickered again and began to fade.

"Faith, I..." his voice faded out and Faith panicked, pressing her hands to the glass as though she could break through. "... you."

At that, he was gone, and Faith was staring at her own reflection again.

"Chance?" she called, though she knew it was pointless. "Chance?"

* * *

On his side of the mirror Faith's face disappeared, and Chance's hand pressed so hard against the mirror that it shattered, cutting his palm to shreds. He cried out, not because of the pain, but because he would never see her again.

Chance turned back to the bed, leaving a blood trail on the vanity and across the bedspread as he lay back down. He didn't worry too much about the blood loss. He had a feeling that he wasn't long for this world.

* * *

Faith stared at the mirror for a few moments and then turned back to her bed, confused by the mirror. She recalled her words: I wish I could see him one more time, just for a minute. She had used her one wish, then... but why had she put a limit on it?

Cursing her own stupidity, Faith turned back to Chance's picture. She wanted to see his face again but stopped cold when her eyes fell on the page.

It wasn't Chance. It was a handsome man.

Faith stared at the picture for a few moments before going back to her closet. She took off her pyjamas so quickly that they ripped, but she didn't care. She threw on the first pair of jeans and shirt she saw, buttoning her jacket quickly and calling her parents.

Her dad answered the phone. "Hello?"

Faith knew that she had woken up, but she didn't care. "Dad, I'm coming over. I need the car."

"... What? Why?"

"I'll explain later."

She hung up and pulled on her boots, grabbing her purse and the picture in an afterthought. Faith wasn't sure what was going on but she didn't care. Something was wrong and Chance was sick. She didn't care if she could never leave him again. She needed to be with him, no matter the risk.


	23. Chapter 23

Reiko Rose: I am, I am!

DarwiOdrade: Thanks! No worries, I'm just updating like crazy because I have no life :)

Christine Ruud: Awww, thanks! Hopefully this makes the tears worthwhile!

A Nonny Mouse: Ok you'll know by the end of this chapter!

**Twenty-Three**

_The only genuine love worthy of the name is unconditional_ – John Powell

It was still snowing when Faith got to her parent's house. She had taken the bus there, but she didn't want to waste any more time than necessary with the local transit. She could shave at least a half hour off of her trip with the car, maybe more if the snow let up.

Her mom answered the door in her bathrobe. "Sweetie, what's the matter?" she asked.

"One of my friends is very sick – I need to go see him," Faith replied. Her mother's eyes glowed in concern as she went on: "He means so much to me, mom, I just need to see him before something awful happens."

"Oh..." her mother paused for a moment. "Faith... I heard on the radio that a huge snowstorm is coming..."

"I don't care." Faith replied. "I need to see him. If something happens and I'm not there... I'll never forgive myself."

"Is there any way you can put it off until morning?" she asked.

"No. It's going to take me over an hour to get there as it is."

"... okay." Her mother relented and handed her the keys, just as Faith knew she would. "But do me a favour and drive carefully... and call us when you get there."

"Its already midnight, mom. Aren't you going to be asleep?" Faith asked.

"Yes. I don't care. Call me." She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "And take care of your friend. I'll be thinking of you."

"Thanks," Faith replied.

* * *

She plugged her iPod into the sound system of the car. She hoped the loud music would keep her mind off of her worry for Chance and help keep her alert. She needed all the help she could get, especially if her mother was right about the storm. Sure enough, the snow began to come down heavier and heavier, until Faith could hardly see in front of her. She pushed the speed limit despite the dangers. She was beyond caring about herself at that point. All she wanted was to see Chance.

Faith left the city behind her, forcing herself to sing along with her music as she followed a modified route to Chance's house. She went in the same general direction that the bus had but skipped the twists and turns, heading straight for her destination. Faith knew that the house displaced itself every so often and tried not to think about that. It would be there when she got there... it just _would_.

* * *

Chance could hear the snowstorm howling outside, though it took a while before it sank into his consciousness. It brought back memories of Faith's narrow escape. He remembered how he had felt when she was in his arms, clinging to his shirt as he brought her back to safety. He had felt such an overpowering concern for her... he had never felt so strongly about someone before meeting her.

Outside the storm raged, and despite himself, Chance wondered if Faith was inside and safe. If, by some twist of fate, she _was_ outside tonight, he wouldn't be able to protect her.

* * *

Faith couldn't see more than three feet in front of the car. She had no idea where she was but she was going more by instinct now than anything else. She had never been incredibly religious but she was praying as hard as she could, praying that she would get to Chance safely, praying that he would still be alive when she got there.

Unbeknownst to Faith the car was drifting towards the middle of the road. Someone else was driving towards her with his or her high beams on, blinding her and forcing her to wrench the wheel to the right so she wouldn't hit him head on. The other car drove by without a problem and Faith began to spin out of control. She let go of the wheel and fought the urge to slam down on the brakes as vertigo took over as she closed her eyes as the wheels skidded on glare ice, fighting for purchase on the road when there was none to be had.

* * *

Faith's mother sat on the couch in her living room, waiting for the phone to ring. She chewed her fingernails, looking at the black TV screen without really seeing it. She would have turned it on, but she didn't want to catch any news stories about a certain car being found in a ditch at the side of the road...

Her husband came through the room and gave her a wave. "I'm headed off to bed. Are you coming?"

"Not for a bit," she replied, trying to smile. She turned on the television to appease him, flipping it to the weather channel just to be on the safe side.

Her husband went on his way. He'd gotten her explanation for why Faith needed the car and had already made peace with it. His daughter was a good driver, thanks to his teaching, and he had total confidence in her abilities, even in a storm.

Faith's mother looked outside and took note of the fat snowflakes being whipped around by the wind. While she knew that her daughter was a good driver, she also knew that Faith could get distracted when she was emotional, which she had obviously been when she had left the house. Her mother was beginning to doubt her decision to let Faith drive herself.

"I should have gone with her," she breathed.

* * *

Faith's car finally skidded to a stop. She opened her eyes slowly, unable to believe that she hadn't hit a snowdrift or a ditch. She was surprised that she hadn't killed herself. She undid her seatbelt and collected her purse, opening her door. Instead of being stranded on some abandoned road she was parked on the side of the road next to a collection of quaint snow-covered houses. It took faith a few moments to realise that these were in fact the houses that had been in Chance's neighbourhood.

Faith was home.

She walked down the street as quickly as she could, ignoring the cold. She couldn't see Chance's house but she convinced herself that it had to be there. It must be there, because if it wasn't... if she had come here to see him and he was gone... she didn't know what she would do.

Finally Faith came to the end of the street. Before her stretched a vacant lot, empty of houses, walls, or anything else that might mark this as Chance's home. Faith walked onto the stretch of land, hoping that she might suddenly catch a glimpse of the house... but there was still nothing.

Faith had forgotten her hat, her gloves, and her scarf. She was absolutely freezing but she didn't care. She fell to her knees in the snow as tears prickled at her eyes. She put her hands to her face as she began to cry. The pain in her chest began to crescendo as she realised that Chance was gone forever.

The falling snow began to cover her. Faith realised that she would need shelter soon, and with the storm raging she might not be able to find her way back to the car. Hoping that the magic that had made Chance's life a living hell might have left a little sprinkling of itself behind, Faith whispered: "Please. Please, bring him back to me."

* * *

Chance was suddenly aware of the house rearranging itself. It was almost a giddy sound, although Chance couldn't imagine what could inspire any sort of giddiness in a house.

He fought to keep his eyes open but found that he was slipping away. Chance wasn't sure how much longer he would remain conscious, or why he should even bother with it, but he struggled to do so anyways. He had nothing to live for but he suddenly raged against the darkness that was slowly pulling him under.

Finding a strength he didn't know he had, Chance dragged himself from the bed, propelling himself towards the bedroom door. He leaned heavily against the wall as he moved from the bedroom to the hallway, his tortured hand leaving smears of blood on the impeccable paint.

He made it almost all the way to the front door before he collapsed against the wall, his muscles simply refusing to carry him any longer. The impact jarred him to the very core, and even as Chance tried to regain his feet he knew that it was no use. He rested his back against the wall, his head falling to his chest.

He had wasted his last little bit of strength, and he didn't even know why...

* * *

... And at that moment Faith heard a sudden quiet. The wind and the snow seemed to stop, suspended around her. She opened her eyes and found herself kneeling in front of Chance's house. It didn't snow for a distance surrounding the house, and outside that perimeter the storm went on as if nothing had happened.

It was as though Faith was trapped in a snow globe, but the storm was outside instead of in.

She stood quickly, fearful that the house could disappear just as it had appeared, and tramped through the undisturbed snow up to the front door. Faith breathed deeply and grasped the handle of the door, twisting it viciously, half expecting that it would be locked. Instead he knob turned politely under her fingers and the door swing inward, pulling Faith along with it.

A sudden calm washed over her. Faith realised that she was finally home, back where she belonged. The familiar surroundings were more soothing than she ever could have imagined, and Faith sighed softly as she closed the front door behind her. It was warm in the house, and as always she took off her boots before leaving the front foyer.

The house was dark, but Faith knew her way around without them. She thought that Chance might be asleep and she started towards his bedroom, hoping to surprise him. She didn't notice the dark heap on the ground until she nearly tripped over it. She knelt to see what it was and in a moment her eyes adjusted to the dark enough that she could make out the shape.

It was Chance.

Faith knelt beside him, her heart pounding with a sudden terror. He was slumped against the wall in a sitting position, unconscious or... no, she wouldn't think like that.

She brushed a lock of hair away from his furred face, putting her hands on his cheeks. They were warm. His chest moved slowly as he breathed in an out, proving that he was alive. Faith's heart skipped a beat when she realised that she might have come just in time.

"Chance..." she murmured, speaking soft enough that she could hardly hear her own voice. Her face was close enough that their noses would touch if either one of them moved. She raised her voice: "Chance?"

He didn't respond. Faith went into her purse and, after a moment of desperate searching, found a half-empty water bottle. She unscrewed the cap, remembering how sick he had looked when she saw him through the mirror.

"Chance, wake up, please." Faith begged. She shook his shoulders gently and still there was no response. She took her water bottle and splashed some of its contents in his face, desperate to have him back. "It's Faith. I'm back. I'll never go away again, I promise, just wake up..."

Chance's forehead wrinkled as he heard her voice, and in another moment, his brilliant blue eyes opened, searching until they found hers. He found himself looking up at Faith, though he couldn't believe that she was really there. She held her breath as he reached up and cupped her cheek in his hand, marvelling at her soft skin.

"I must be dreaming," he breathed.

"No," Faith murmured. She put her arms around his chest, hugging him tightly. "I'm really here."

Chance returned the embrace. He pulled his bleeding hand into a fist so he wouldn`t get blood on her, wrapping his hurting arm around her shoulders and using his good hand to hold her head to his chest. "So... dreams do come true..."

"I was scared that I'd never see you again..." Faith pulled back, grasping his hands. She noticed him wince and she looked closely at his palms. She discovered that one of them was smeared with drying blood, and she was horrified to find that it had shards of glass still in it. "Oh, Chance..." she murmured, pressing her own hand to her lips.

"I'm fine," he replied weakly. "Now that you're here... but... why did you come back?"

"Why wouldn't I come back?" Faith asked softly.

"Because... you might not get another chance to be free." He replied.

Faith squeezed his good hand. "What good is freedom when I can't be with you?" she asked with a small smile.

Chance would have replied, but a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. He moaned and pulled back from her, consumed for a moment with the pain. After a moment it eased enough that he could meet Faith's eyes again.

She was beyond worry. He had her scared now. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Chance let himself be honest with her. "I... don't know."

"How long have you been sick?" Faith prodded.

"... not sure." He admitted. "The last couple days."

"... Oh." Faith felt her heart drop. "Well... I'll be here to take care of you now."

"You don't have to do..."

Chance paused as another wave of pain shot through his chest. Faith moved forward to hold him through it. Chance gripped her tightly, hard enough to bruise, unwilling to let go. When the pain dissipated enough for Chance to loosen his grip on her Faith pulled back a little, her hands resting on his shoulders. She didn't know what was wrong with him and she didn't know how long this pain would last, but she at least wanted him off the floor.

"Can you get up if I help you?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Chance replied, and it was true: now that Faith was back, he felt that he could do anything. He put his hands on her shoulders and let her pull him upwards, forcing himself to move with her. It was a struggle, but somehow Faith managed to pull him up to a standing position, though it took all the strength she had. Once he was upright, Chance had expected her to go to one side of him so he could put his arm around her shoulders for support, but instead Faith leaned him against the wall, regaining her breath. Once she was sure he could stand without too much help she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, burying her head in his chest. Chance returned the embrace, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and holding her head with his uninjured hand.

"I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to find you," Faith whispered.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Chance replied. He pulled back and looked into her dark eyes, still amazed that she had come back for him. He smiled even though another wave of pain was starting in his chest. "I guess... we were both wrong."

* * *

It didn't take long until Faith got him back to his own room. She would have gone to hers first but she noticed that there was blood all over the bedspread and decided that she would carry Chance the last few steps if she had to.

Luckily, his strength held until they were back in his room. Faith laid him back on the bed and went to get her trusty first-aid fit once again, gently cleaning his bloodied hand and picking the glass out of his cuts, piling them on the bedside table to be disposed of later.

Chance remained quiet for the first few moments, watching Faith as she performed her tasks. She seemed perfectly content with him, although Chance couldn't imagine why she would be. Once Faith was sure that all of the glass was out she wrapped his hand in bandages.

She looked into his eyes and smiled, reaching out to put her hand on his forehead. It was still damp from her splashing water on him. "You're going to be nothing but scars if you keep this up..."

"Take your coat of," Chance replied gently. "Stay a while."

Faith's hand went to her chest. She hadn't realised that she was wearing her jacket still, and now she unbuttoned it and let it fall to the floor at the side of the bed. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No, not really," Chance answered truthfully. It had been days since his last meal but he was beyond hunger now.

"Thirsty?" Faith asked.

"Yes." That he couldn't ignore. Faith left for a minute and came back with a glass of water. She held it to his lips and waited patiently as Chance sipped, drinking slowly to please his queasy stomach. He drained the glass eventually and Faith put it to the side, trying to think of something else she could do for him.

"You look exhausted," Chance murmured.

Faith put a hand to her face. It was somewhere around two in the morning. "I'm okay," she murmured.

"Lie down," Chance said.

There was more than enough room on the bed for the two of them. Faith did as she was told, curling up next to him so that her head rested on his chest. Chance put his arms around her, holding her close. Faith closed her eyes as a feeling of total safety washed over her. She couldn't remember a time where she had ever felt so perfectly content, and now she smiled, her fingers clutching the fabric of Chance's shirt.

Chance saw her smile and he felt his lips curl into an answering grin. He squeezed her shoulder gently, not wanting her to fall asleep just yet. "Faith?"

"Hmm?" she asked, opening her eyes.

He felt the need to be responsible now, to remind her of what she was risking. He put his hand over hers, dwarfing it. "You do understand that... you may never go home again...?"

"Oh. Yes, I do." Faith replied calmly.

"And... that doesn't bother you?" he prodded gently.

"Actually... no," Faith replied. "I decided that coming back and seeing you again was more than worth the risk."

Chance was a little surprised by that. He looked down into Faith's eyes, asking, "Why?"

"Because..."

Faith paused, looking down at their linked hands. Something about being here just felt so right... life back in the city would go on without her. This is where she truly belonged. Her heart belonged here... it belonged to Chance.

Faith propped herself up so that she could look at Chance's face. It had seemed to strange to her before, but now she couldn't imagine going another day without seeing it. In all honesty, she couldn't go another day without seeing him. School, her family, her friends... nothing mattered to her as much as he did.

"What?" Chance asked, concerned with her silence. Another sharp pain started in his chest but he ignored it, his eyes on Faith.

Softly, overcome by self-realisation, Faith whispered: "I came back because... I love you."

Chance stared at her for a moment, unable to believe what he had just heard the pain in his chest tore through the rest of his body. Suddenly he understood: she loved him. The spell was broken.

"Faith, I-" he was cut off as the pain seemed to tear him apart, running through his veins like liquid fire. Chance's body spasmed as it prepared to change back.

"Chance?" Faith saw excruciating pain wash over him as his body. His back arched spasmed as she watched helplessly. In a few moments he was mad with the pain, screaming out loud as his claws tore deep furrows in the bed. She had no idea what was wrong with him but she knew it was something horrible. She reached out to touch him but stopped when she heard something that sounded like bones breaking from within his skin.

Chance meant to tell her that it was okay, that she had broken the spell, that she had saved him, but when he opened his mouth his voice came out in a scream of pain. He couldn't control himself as he lashed out, ripping the bedding and his clothing to shreds as he moved to claw the pain from his body. He remember that the change had been terrible, but having his bones shortened was worse than having them made longer. His skin ached as it tightened to fit his new frame, and his fur pulled back through his pores.

Terrified, Faith threw her arms around his writhing form, unable to watch his pain. She felt his bones crunch and bubble beneath his skin and his body seemed to twist beneath her touch. Faith couldn't imagine what was causing this. Had he really been so sick? Had she come back too late after all? Tears began to flow from her eyes and she clamped her eyelids shut to slow them.

Chance tried to still himself, scared that he would forget himself and hurt Faith in his pain, but his body twisted and jumped beyond his control. After what seemed like an eternity Chance's bones finally settled back into place. Faith clung to him with her eyes clamped shut and Chance put his hand out to comfort her. He was about to tell her that everything was alright, that he was okay now, but he stopped when he saw his hand.

It was a human hand.

He had a human hand.

He was... he was human again.

Chance looked down at Faith, exhausted. She was silent, but her eyes were wet with tears. He couldn't imagine the thoughts going through her head right now... suddenly Chance was struck by a thought that had never occurred to him before: what if seeing him like this frightened her?

"Faith..." Chance murmured. His voice had gone from a rough growl to something incredibly different. It was soft and gentle, but Faith's eyes snapped open when she heard it. She turned to look at Chance and her eyes widened when she saw his face.

Instead of the person she had come to know and love, Faith saw a perfectly normal man. She pulled away from him, confused. Chance was too weak from his change to hold her back and Faith stumbled off the bed, staring at him from a distance. The lack of recognition in her eyes hurt worse than Chance's transformation. He reached out, desperate to calm her, desperate to have her close to him again.

"Faith," he said again, his voice tender. "Its me. Its Chance."

Faith stared at the man on the bed. He had gorgeously tousled brown eyes and his body was close to perfect. His skin was perfect, not too pale, not too tanned, without a single blemish. He was muscular without looking like he tried at it, and even in the oversized, torn clothing he wore he looked... well... handsome. The huge neckline of his shirt slipped off his sculpted left shoulder, exposing his faultless collarbones.

He looked familiar, though, and after a moment Faith could place him despite her feat: this was the man from the pictures Chance had used for his profile. This was the man that had appeared in her picture of him. But while the man in the pictures had been perfect and toned, this one looked softer... more approachable. As though he had taken some time away from being beautiful to lead a normal life... maybe to eat a few pancakes and watch TV.

She looked down at his outstretched hand. It was freshly bandaged, just as Chance's had been, and when her eyes were finally drawn to his... they were the same piercing blue. They had the same expression, the same power of pulling her in...

They were Chance`s eyes.

Faith looked over his body again, trying to convince herself that this was not the person she had fallen in love with. But when she looked into her eyes she saw him. She moved back to the bed, keeping her eyes on his, trying to find Chance under the perfection.

Chance reached out and cupped Faith`s chin in his hand. He was exhausted from his transformation but he had to know that she recognised him. He began to explain; "I was under a spell. There was a woman... and she started out ugly but somehow she changed into a beautiful enchantress, or something..."

Faith took his hand in hers and removed it from her face. She looked down at his palm, admiring the familiar scar before turning it over to inspect his split knuckles. Faith looked back into his eyes again and now she was sure. This was Chance. Somehow, he had changed, but it was still Chance.

"She made me a beast," Chance murmured. "And I had to learn to love, and be loved in return, or I would never change back. And I loved you, almost from the start I loved you, but I never had the courage to say it... and I never believed that you would love me back."

Faith smiled. She brushed her fingers along his jaw line to reassure herself that the coarse fur had been replaced by smooth flesh. Chance put his hands over hers, pulling them from his face. He stared into her eyes, begging for honesty.

"But... you do... love me?" he murmured.

"I love you more than anything," she breathed.

Chance pulled her into his arms, overcome with emotions. He was only a little bit bigger than her now but she still fit perfectly against him. Faith wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his neck, relieved to have him back.

"Did I mention that I love you, too?" Chance asked.

"Yeah," Faith replied, smiling. She pulled back to look him in the eyes again. Now that she was looking for it she could pick out Chance's usual expressions, as though this person had been hiding beneath the beast all along.

"I wish I could have told you..." Chance murmured. He fell back onto the bed, exhausted. "But I knew you'd never believe me..."

Faith felt her own fatigue wash over her. She let herself lie next to him, resting her head on his chest. They linked hands as they fell back into the positions they had been in before Chance changed back into a man. Chance squeezed Faith's shoulder lovingly, kissing the top of her head.

"Maybe you can tell me everything in the morning..." Faith whispered, letting herself fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

"Maybe," Chance agreed

Thirty seconds later they were both asleep.

* * *

AN: Only two or three chapters to go... :(


	24. Chapter 24

Reiko Rose: You know what, since you mentioned it, I do have this half cracked idea for a retelling of Beauty and the Beast where the beast is a girl, but I didn't know if anyone would read it. Maybe I'll get my ass in gear on that one and post it... :)

**Twenty-Four**

_There is no mistaking love. You feel it in your heart. It is the common fibre of life, the flame that heats our soul, energizes our spirit and supplies passion to our lives – _Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

Chance woke up first. The first thing he noticed was that he really, really, desperately needed to pee. The second thing he noticed was that Faith was sleeping next to him. And the third thing he noticed was...

He was human.

Memories of the night before came flooding back to him and Chance smiled, kissing Faith on the forehead. Her black hair was a mess of bed head and her clothes were rumpled, but at that moment Chance was looking at the most wonderful girl in all the world. Chance would have been content to lay with her forever, but was forced to leave her behind in order to get to the bathroom.

After being a beast for so long, he'd forgotten some of the finer points of walking like a human. Chance managed to get to the bathroom without any mishaps but he walked like a drunken sailor while doing so. Apparently his transformation didn`t end with looks. He was going to have to relearn a couple things...

Chance closed the door behind him, dropped his pants, and was about to begin the urination process when he noticed something he hadn't seen in over two years.

A penis.

He had one.

After more than two years of being neutered creature, he had a penis.

Chance couldn't help the idiotic grin that spread across his face.

* * *

Faith woke up to the tune of David Bowie's Changes being blared from somewhere inside her purse. She rolled over and grabbed it from the end of the bed, opening it and pressing it to her face.

"... Yes?"

"You had better have a good excuse for not calling me." Came her mother's voice. Needless to say, she was pissed.

"Oh my god, mom, I'm sorry!" Faith cried, sitting bolt upright.

"Uh-huh," her mother replied. "I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry," Faith replied. "I was going to call you but I got sidetracked because it was snowing and then I almost got hit by a car-"

"You did WHAT?" her mother's tone changed instantly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't..."

Faith trailed off upon hearing a flush from the bathroom, which was shortly followed by a crash as someone fell to the floor. Her eyes widened and she got out of bed, nearly tripping as her feet tangled in the bedspread.

"Mom, Chance just hurt himself. I have to go."

"Fine. But don't be driving anymore unless its necessary, the storm blocked up most of the streets until tomorrow. And when you get come home you're grounded. I'll figure out what you're grounded from when you get here."

Faith smiled. "Ok, mom, love you."

"Love you, too."

Faith threw the phone back in her purse and went to Chance's bathroom. She nearly walked in, but, after a second thought, she knocked at the door.

"Yes?" came Chance`s voice.

"Are you okay?" Faith asked.

"Yes. I just... uh... tripped."

"Are you decent? Do you need some help?" Faith suppressed a giggle. He might be absolutely gorgeous now, but he still hurt himself like there was no tomorrow.

"No, I think I can handle it from here..." Faith heard him curse a little bit before the sink started up. Presumably, he had made it up to wash his hands. After a few moments the door opened and Faith found herself standing in front of the love of her life.

"... Hi," she murmured shyly.

"Hi," Chance replied.

He stepped out of the bathroom, meaning to grab her in a tight hug, but instead he tripped over his own two feet. Faith managed to catch him, smiling. His clumsiness made it easier for her to believe that this beautiful man was, in fact, the beast she'd fallen in love with.

"Sorry," Chance muttered, embarrassed. He regained his feet, trying to pretend that he wasn't having as much trouble with his body as he was. "I'm not used to this whole human thing yet..."

Suddenly Faith realised that, aside from a kiss on the cheek or the like, she had never kissed Chance, which seemed a travesty at the moment. Faith decided on impulse that she would right this wrong and she pressed her lips to his. Chance shut up instantly, his heart pounding as their lips touched. Despite the fact that Faith was holding him up he felt woozy and the floor seemed to tilt at an odd angle. Chance had been kissed more times than he could count, but never like this. Never by a woman that he loved.

Faith noticed his swoon and pulled back first. "Are you okay?"

"Oh... yeah, just... um... a bit dizzy." Chance smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I guess... I've just never felt like this about anyone before..."

"That's okay," Faith replied. He was closer to her height now so she could see more easily into his eyes. She couldn't help but smile: imagine, a plain Jane like her having that kind of power over such a gorgeous guy! "Want to lie down for a bit?"

"That would probably be a good idea." Chance replied.

Faith stayed close, just in case Chance took another dive for the floor, but let him make it to bed under his own power. She laid next to him, turning so that they were looking eye-to-eye. Chance reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm, marvelling at the fact that someone like her could be in love with someone like him.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he murmured.

"Its okay," Faith replied. "You were in a lot of pain. But... what triggered the whole thing?"

"Well... you did," Chance murmured.

Faith`s eyes widened. "I put you in all that pain?!"

"No. I put myself in pain," Chance replied. "I was an inconsiderate ass, so I was put under a spell. You're the one who released me."

"Oh, yes. The spell..." Faith tried to remember exactly what he had been talking about the night before, but they had both been too tired to go into much detail. "So... what exactly happened to you?"

"Well..." Chance sighed, trying to think of where he should begin. "Its... kind of a long story..."

"I have time," Faith assured him.

"Ok. Well... I was kind of a huge asshole before you met me," Chance murmured. "Ever since I was a kid, I was rude and inconsiderate... that's why I have no relationship with my family. They honestly tried to put up with me, but I never made it easy. And once I started to get into modelling, well... there was no living with me." He caught Faith`s questioning look and added, "Yeah. I'm... kind of a model. Or I was. I don't think I want to do that anymore. But I was making good money, so I moved away from my family and severed all contact."

"Sounds lonely," Faith replied.

"It was," Chance admitted. "But I didn't see it that way. I just knew I had no shortage of money, or girls, and that I could do anything I wanted to. So life went on for a few years... then I woke up one night, and there was this woman standing over me... she was just god-awful to look at. Painfully thin, bad teeth, track marks up and down each arm, scraggly hair. I honestly thought that she was a crack whore, but she said that we hadn't done it. She kept asking me for help but I wouldn't bother. I thought I was so much better than her. So I basically told her to fuck of. Then..."

"Then she started to get pretty..." Faith murmured, recognizing the woman in his story as the one from her coffee shop.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"She came into work to escape the cold and I gave her some hot chocolate." She replied.

"Oh. See, you were nice to her because, unlike me, you aren't a prick." Chance smiled. "Anyways, she called me a beast... and that`s when it started..."

Faith listened carefully as Chance related his story. He had been vague about his past up until this point, but now he was an open book. He answered the questions she interrupted him with before going on to explain his half-cocked plan to find love on the internet (she thought it was kind of funny that his penis had been poofed away along with his incredibly good looks, though Chance didn't quite agree with her on that). Of course, neither of them had expected their chat room friendship to come as far as it had, but once Faith heard his side of the story it seemed perfectly reasonable to her that she had been the one to come to his aid after all.

Chance held nothing back, though he had been a little nervous about telling Faith his sordid model past. He was relieved to see that she wasn't appalled by his behaviour up until meeting her (after all, he had been taught a lesson), and nothing else he had to say really seemed to shock her. Mostly Faith was upset that he had been so alone for so long, thought he didn`t see the bid problem. He had her now: what more could he possibly want?

"Well," Faith murmured once Chance's story was done, "I think I should go have a shower. Do you want me to get you anything?"

Chance smiled mischievously. "Another kiss would be nice,"

Faith was more than happy to comply.

* * *

Faith noticed a few things when she went for her shower. Her bedroom and the connecting bathroom had disappeared and the mess that she had come home to was gone. Faith asked for her room to reappear, testing for any traces of the magic that had been present not twelve hours earlier, and nothing happened. She ducked back into Chance's room, mildly disappointed.

"My room is gone," she announced.

"What?" Chance asked.

"My room. Poof, vanished." Faith reiterated. "I'm going to have to use your bathroom."

"Oh... okay..." Chance replied. "That's funny... did you try asking for it to be given back?"

"Yeah, the magic is gone, too." Faith replied, looking out the window. "And the whole house is clean. No blood streaks anywhere. But, if I can believe what I'm seeing, we haven't budged from last night... but there isn't a wall or any of that ridiculous nonsense to deal with."

"I guess... you got rid of that, too." Chance murmured.

"I guess." Faith sat back on the bed. "Kind of sad, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Chance agreed. "No more random redistribution of my house..."

"Or free stuff," Faith added, "Or pre-made batter at the drop of a hat."

"Now that I will miss."

"Well, you could always get yourself changed back," Faith suggested, laughing at the pained expression that passed over Chance's face.

"Yeah... hmmm... or not."

"I liked you the same then as I do now," Faith said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Forgive me," Chance replied, gravely sarcastic, "If I don't want to give up my junk so soon after getting it back. Maybe in a couple years I'll be willing to do it, but not at the moment."

"Ok. I'll bring it up later." Faith replied, going for her shower. "Try not to hurt yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

"Only I could hurt myself from the comfort of my own bed," Chance laughed. "But I'll do my best."

* * *

They spent the day together in bed, since Chance wasn't steady enough on his feet to be moving around. They talked for hours, discussing every minute detail of everything they could think of. Of course, it made sense that they move in together, as the last few days had proven that they were borderline catatonic when separated.

Chance decided that he would go back to school and get a degree, since he wasn`t sure about modeling anymore and, in any case, his body wouldn`t last forever. They figured out that it would be a two hour commute to and from school every day from Chance`s house and decided that they would keep the house (Faith couldn`t imagine selling a place that felt so much like home), but they would live in her apartment most of the time for convenience sake.

Faith brought up the subject of Chance`s parents, reminding him that he was no longer the asshole they had come to know. She suggested that he invite them over to show that he had turned over a new leaf. The idea frightened him to begin with, but Faith promised that she would be there to support him and he had to agree that these were relationships he should at least try to mend.

Of course, once Chance had better control of his body, he would have to meet Faith`s family. He didn`t know that they would like them, but he couldn`t say no to Faith... and besides, he would have to meet them sooner or later if they were going to get married.

"Wait, wait." Faith interrupted him. "What do you mean, married?"

"Well... will you marry me?" Chance asked. He was smiling but his eyes were serious. "I won't have us living in sin for the rest of our lives."

"... Are you proposing to me right now?" Faith asked.

"That depends on whether or not you say yes." Chance replied.

"Well, you can at least ask me nicely," Faith replied. She tried to keep her tone light but her heart was pounding against her ribs.

"Okay," Chance replied. "I can't get down on one knee, but imagine it, if you will..." he cleared his throat. "Faith, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Faith replied. She turned to kiss him gently on the lips, smiling when he gasped for air. "But I have to tell my mom I'm dating you before I marry you. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

The next morning Faith was forced to return home. Most of the streets had been ploughed and her dad would need the car for work the next day, when there would be no excuses.

Chance was a little better now. He could walk with a pronounced limp, but he wasn't dizzy unless Faith was kissing him, and then she was there to keep him upright. He walked her to the door, terrified of letting her go but unable to make her stay.

"Promise me you'll call every night," Faith murmured. She had found his old cell phone from his previous life and programmed herself in. "I'll be back in a day or two, but I'm not going to leave you to your own devices until then."

"I promise," Chance replied. He hugged her tightly, unwilling to let her go. "Make sure you tell your parents that you've been dating me. Once I can walk without looking like an idiot I'll take you to pick out the nicest engagement ring in a hundred mile radius."

"I'd be fine with a silver band and you know it." Faith replied, tousling his chocolate brown hair.

"I know." He kissed her forehead, trying to draw out their goodbye for another minute. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She kissed him back, heading for the door. She didn't want to leave but the sooner she did, the sooner she could come back. "Don`t cut yourself while I`m gone."

"I won`t."

Chance watched as she walked down the street, got into her car, and drove away. An overwhelming feeling of loneliness came over him until his phone beeped, alerting him to an incoming text message. Chance answered it and read what Faith had typed to him:

_"I love you, Beasty!"_

Chance smiled. Now this he could handle.

* * *

AN: Oh my god I liked him so much better as a beast, I can hardly stand it!


	25. Chapter 25

Reiko Rose: Well, I'll try and get a few chapters written up before school starts up again... but I don't promise that it will be good :)

* * *

**Twenty-Five**

_Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be – _Robert Browning

"I can't believe you made me come here!" Faith's mother screamed over the loud music. She pretended to be pissed, but underneath the facade she was smiling.

Faith, her parents and her friends were all gathered at around a table. They were at Stereo, the cool new club that had opened just in time for them to plan a party to celebrate the end of the school year. Faith, Emma, Cat, Robert and all of her other friends had passed all of their first year courses, mostly with flying colours, and were looking forward to their long awaited summer.

But for Faith, this party meant more than the end of the school year. This was the first time anyone was going to meet Chance.

In the last few months Chance had moved in with her. He had slowly learned how to walk and move like a normal human being again, and Faith had been more than happy to help him with the adjustments. He still had a slight limp, but he was moving on his own now, which meant more independence for the both of them... though Faith secretly missed the intimacy of their first week together, where it was only her, Chance, and their house.

Chance had gotten into contact with his old employers, who where ecstatic to have him back. His new, softer, guy-next-door look meant less work and less money, but Chance didn't mind. He had more than enough money to do what he wanted, and he had made up his mind to get a degree, anyways.

Faith grinned back at her mother, crying: "I thought you wanted to meet Chance!"

"I do... in a nice, quiet place!"

"I don't need to meet him at all," her dad added sourly, out of place in the loud club.

"Well, sorry, I wanted to introduce him to everyone at once!"

Her mother said something she could not understand and Faith merely nodded, standing and walking to the bar. She was wearing a slinky black tank top and dark jeans. Her friends had all opted for bright colours and more obvious club wear, while Faith had decided to keep it sexy and simple. When the bartender turned to her Faith ordered a purple haze for herself and a screwdriver for Chance. He had been terribly nervous about meeting her parents and Faith thought that he might feel better with a little vodka in his system.

Faith watched as the bartender mixed her drinks. She was aware that someone was behind her before Chance put his arms around her waist but she acted surprised anyways, turning to look into his icy blue eyes. She was used to his human face now, and though she missed some things about life before the spell was broken she understood that Chance was happier now, and he was still himself, and that was all that mattered.

"Hi," she murmured. The bartender brought the drinks over and she grabbed them without a second glance. "I thought you would need this."

"I think I do," Chance admitted. His chocolate brown hair was in a disarray and there was a slight edge of panic in his eyes. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of dark-wash jeans, matching her, but he looked totally uncomfortable even in this casual attire. "What if they don't like me?"

"They will." Faith pressed the screwdriver into his hands. "I love you, don`t I?"

"You do," Chance murmured, "and I know I'm the luckiest man in the world. I just... also think... I'm..."

"Drink," she commanded.

He drank, downing the beverage at top speed. He put the glass back on the counter and looked into Faith's dark eyes, still nervous. "I'm not exactly the kind of guy you take home to your parents, Faith."

"You're right," Faith replied. "You're better."

"That's not what I-"

"Do you need this, too?" Faith asked, offering her own drink.

"No." Chance replied. "... Well, maybe..."

"What about a kiss?" She asked.

"... That would probably do more than a drink," Chance admitted.

"Well, if you say so..."

Faith took his face in her hands and, standing on tiptoes, pressed her lips to his. The music pounding around them seemed to fade into background noise as Chance wrapped his arms around her, pulling their bodies together so that they were one.

"So..." Faith murmured, pulling away just enough so that she could speak, "Are you ready to meet everyone now?"

"... I'm ready to take a bullet right now," Chance breathed.

"I don't think it will be that bad," she replied. She smoothed out his shirt and ran her fingers through his hair. "Now come on..."

Faith lead Chance back to her group. They held hands so that when people saw her, they saw him, and realized who he was. Her mother's eyes widened and her father's jaw literally dropped. Emma did a double take and Robert blinked twice. Cat was the only one who spoke.

"Oh my god, you're dating HIM?!" She cried.

Chance stared at her, almost in shock, pulling Faith closer to him as though to shield himself from their eyes.

"He's flipping HOT!" Cat continued. "Where did you find him?!"

"... Internet," Faith replied, smiling.

Chance waited for them to interrogate him, to mock him, to point out that he was an absolute imposter who would never deserve a girl life Faith... but they didn't.

"Hi," Cat said, since everyone else had decided to be speechless. "I'm Cat. Funny story, I'm actually dating Faith's ex right now, so, if you guys ever decide to, you know, split..."

"Not funny," Robert growled playfully, grabbing her around the waist. Cat shrieked as he pulled away, not upset in the slightest that Faith had moved on. After all: so had he.

"So, uh..." Emma looked Chance over, smiling. "I thought you were done with hot guys, Faith."

"I was. I changed my mind," Faith replied.

"Oh. Oh, my goodness." Faith's mother pushed past the rest of her friends, dragging Faith's father along for the awkward ride. "Hi, I'm Faith's mom! And you must be Chance. We've heard so much about you..."

"... too much..." her husband added.

"... And we are just delighted that Faith's found someone who makes her so happy..."

"... And what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?" Faith's dad broke in, ignoring his wife's babbling.

"I'm actually intending to marry her," Chance murmured quietly. Faith's mother was too caught up to hear, but her father did. His mouth snapped open and shut a few times, like a fish.

"... oh..."

Faith grinned. "Not tonight, dad. But someday."

"Oh... kay..."

Faith decided that Chance had endured enough torture for one night and pulled him away from the crowd. "Okay, we're going to dance now, so, you guys have fun!"

They left the party behind as The Black Eyed Peas started blasting. Faith recognized _I Gotta Feeling_ from their new album and grinned, pulling Chance into the middle of the dance floor. They were surrounded by other couples, some just beginning to fall in love, some just getting to know each other, some who were just looking for a good time. Faith and Chance joined them as they moved to the music, though their eyes remained on each other.

"So, was that okay?" Faith asked. The music was incredibly loud here, and Chance had to come close to hear her voice.

"It was okay," He agreed. "I think your dad is a little worried about us now but, aside from that... I'd call it a success."

"So would I."

"So... they know we're dating now." Chance pointed out.

"They do," Faith agreed.

"So maybe..." Chance cleared his throat and pulled Faith closer, reaching into his pocket with his free hand. "Maybe... we can bring them up to speed on the fact that we're engaged..."

Faith had been expecting a ring, but seeing the little black box made her freeze. Chance stooped down on one knee and held it out to her, grinning secretively as a few of the surrounding dancers stopped to stare.

"Oh my god," Faith whispered. Chance opened the ring box and Faith found herself staring down at simple silver band. "Its... exactly what I wanted."

"Does that mean yes?"Chance asked.

"I already said yes three months ago you dink!" Faith laughed.

"Well, I want you to say it again." Chance cleared his throat. "Faith, my love, will you marry me?"

"Of course!" Faith cried. She pulled him back up onto his feet and wrapped her arms around him. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"Well, put it on." Chance said.

Faith began to do as she was told, taking the silver band from the box, but she noticed an inscription around the inside, where no one would see it. Faith tried to hold it up to the light but the strobe light was on, making it hard to read. Chance took it from her and slipped it onto her ring finger, taking her hands in his.

"It says, 'Beauty and the Beast: Forever and Always'," he murmured.

"Perfect," Faith murmured. Their lips met again and Faith wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes. The club melted away around them and the two of them found themselves lost in one another, perfectly content to be lost.

"I love you," Chance whispered.

"I love you, too." Faith replied.

Neither one of them noticed when the beautiful blond woman brushed passed them. She looked over them for a moment, smiling to herself and taking care not to disrupt them. She made her way through the club and up to the bar, her beauty melting away to reveal a less appealing person. She found a beautiful young man sitting there. He was flirting with a girl but not really paying attention to her. When she tapped his shoulder he turned to look at her and, wrinkling his nose at her, he asked, "Whadaya want?"

"Please," the woman asked, holding out her hands. "I need help..."

**The End**

**

* * *

_Well folks, that's the end! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, I appreciate each and everyone one of you. Enjoy the rest of your summer!_**


End file.
